


The Admirer

by Caedmon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Older Man/Younger Woman, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-06-28 10:42:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15705618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: Rose has no idea who has been leaving pink and yellow roses on her desk every morning before class. She knows who shewantsit to be, but that's impossible. Who, then?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just a couple of quick notes...
> 
> ~If I owned Doctor Who, I'd be rich and probably own a green dress. Alas, I own nothing but the mistakes.  
> ~Beta'd by RishiDiams and Rose--Nebula, who both made invaluable contributions to this little story and held my hand the whole way. Thank you, Beulah and Gertrude. Love you.  
> ~I am nothing more than a dancing, fic-writing monkey, and kudos and comments are the coins in my tin cup. Thank you for them. <3 
> 
> EDIT - 6/6/2019
> 
> I've been convinced to expand this story! It will now be a multichap, and I'll be posting updates every Monday and Thursday until it's finished. Thank you to Rishi and Rose--Nebula for continuing to hold my hand, to Tenroseforeverandever for picking up beta duties, and to travelinghopefully, who organized something of a protest until I agreed to write more. Blame her! ;) 
> 
> Art by the incomparable Rose--Nebula.
> 
>  
> 
> Come say hi! caedmonfaith.tumblr.com

Spring Term, 2019

Rose’s astronomy class was early, 8am, and most of the time she wore her comfiest of socially acceptable clothes when she went. Jeans and jumpers, usually, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Occasionally, when she was exceptionally tired or running late, she wouldn’t even bother with makeup. 

She was capable of looking much better, but she wasn’t interested in trying to catch the eye of any of her classmates - certainly not at _that_ ungodly hour. She was too bleary to care about blokes, really, at stupid o’clock in the morning. Besides that, she’d sworn them off when she started uni, determined to graduate with her first - and without distraction. 

The one bloke she _did_ have her eye on was utterly unattainable. Her astronomy professor - Dr. Ian Docherty, or ‘the Doctor’, as he was known around campus - was significantly older than Rose, utterly brilliant, and handsome as sin, to boot, with his sharp features and salt-and-pepper hair. That wasn’t even taking into consideration that she was a student in his class twice a week until the end of the semester. There was no point in her even entertaining the thought of a relationship with him or that her crush might be reciprocated, so she didn’t. She just trudged to class, taking her customary seat on the front row, determined to keep her head down, keep her crush under control, and to pass with the highest grade she could muster. 

Every Tuesday and Thursday morning for the first two months of the term, Rose had filed into her lecture along with her classmates and made her way to her seat. On this particular morning in early March, however, she froze when her desk came into sight. 

Lying on it was a single pink and yellow rose, wrapped in green florist’s paper with a little pink ribbon tied around it. Her eyes darted around the room as she tried to assess whether she’d mistakenly gone to the wrong class or was on the wrong row - something. But no, she was definitely in the right place - all the faces surrounding her were familiar and it was definitely the Doctor at the front of the room. 

She approached the desk curiously, eyes locked on the rose, and noticed a little note attached to the ribbon. Looking around the room one more time, she didn’t see anyone watching her, so she unfolded the paper. In careful block script, it read, _Just wanted to brighten the day of the girl who brightens mine every Tuesday and Thursday._

There was no name, but Rose felt herself flushing with happiness anyway, a smile blooming across her face. Then she realized the absolute lack of care she’d put into her appearance and was mortified. Her face scarlet, she sat down in her seat and tried to act like everything was normal. 

By the time of her next astronomy class, Rose had convinced herself that the flower on her desk had to have been a fluke, or a practical joke. She forced herself to go in the same comfy clothes she always wore - although she _did_ make sure to wear some makeup and style her hair nicely. All the way there, she warned herself sternly not to put any stock into the flower that had been left for her last time. It wouldn’t happen again. There was no way. 

Except when Rose started down the aisle towards the front of the lecture hall and her seat, there was another pink and yellow rose in green paper with a pink bow lying on her desk. Her steps quickened to get to it, and she grabbed it up before she even dropped her bag, reading the note. 

_Your smile last time was so lovely, I just had to see it again. Thank you for making this early class a pleasure._

Rose looked around the classroom, hoping to see someone watching her. Again, it looked like everyone was going about their business and she was forgotten. She sank down into her chair, feeling lighter than air, and did her best to pay attention to the lecture. Between the rose and her typical wayward thoughts about her lecturer, it wasn’t easy to concentrate. 

The following Tuesday, at her next class, there was another rose. The note this time simply said, _You’re beautiful_ , but even just those two words made her feel like she was dancing on sunshine. 

Nine more classes came and went, as did nine more pink and yellow roses in green paper with pink bows. Rose kept the notes handy so she could look at them any time she needed a lift. All of them were sweet, some of them encouraging, and each one made her feel like she was glowing inside. 

At night, when she crawled into bed and tiredness made her mind more likely to wander, she let herself entertain the little fantasy that her secret crush and her admirer were one and the same - then she would scoff to herself and roll over. It was highly unlikely that the Doctor, of all people, would harbor feelings for her. He likely didn’t even know her name. To him, she was just a face in the crowd, just another student. Besides that, a man that handsome and intelligent was _bound_ to be taken. She was being foolish, daydreaming about him and his long fingers and his soft brogue. 

Still, she dreamed about him bearing pink and yellow roses and baring his soul. 

After over a month of receiving flowers and notes, Rose felt a bit stymied by the fact that her admirer could give her a gift and send her a note, but she couldn’t do the same for him (or her). In a burst of inspiration, towards the end of class, she jotted a note down. 

_Will I ever get to meet you? ~R_

She folded the note in half and left it on her desk when the Doctor dismissed class before she could lose her nerve. When she got to the door, she turned to try to see if anyone had grabbed the note, but there were too many people milling around and she couldn’t tell. Suddenly embarrassed, she ducked her head and went home. Maybe trying to reply was stupid. Maybe the wrong person had found the note, some other student who had tossed it in the bin. She was being daft and she knew it.

The next class, the rose was waiting on her desk. Rose took her seat and opened the note eagerly - even though her stomach felt a little queasy - reading the now-familiar handwriting. 

_I’m afraid I’m not your type of bloke, although I’d love to be._

A man, then. One of her peers. Rose pondered her answer, glancing over the blokes in her class, trying to figure out who would think he wasn’t her type. After considering her response carefully, she wrote her reply note and left it on her desk. 

_Maybe, maybe not. Let me be the judge of that. I’d at least like to thank the person who’s made me smile every Tuesday and Thursday morning. Do I know you? ~R_

That Thursday, Rose opened the note and read, _No, but you know of me. You’d recognize my face, but we’ve never spoken._

At the end of class, she’d composed another note. _I think we should remedy that. Can I buy you a coffee? ~R_

The next few days were interminable. She spent the whole weekend debating whether or not she’d done the right thing, and what she’d do if he actually took her up on her offer. There were only a couple of weeks left in the semester and she was dreading it. For one thing, she’d no longer have the Doctor to ogle and daydream about every Tuesday and Thursday. She was dreading leaving his company, even if he didn’t even know her name. Also, with the end of the semester came the end of the flirtation she’d been enjoying. She very much wanted to know who her admirer was. But had she been too forward?

On Tuesday another rose greeted her, along with another note. 

_I’d love nothing more than to get to know you better, Rose Tyler. But I’m afraid._

_Of what? ~R_

Her answer was waiting for her on Thursday. _Afraid I’ll disappoint you. I’m no pretty boy._

Rose wrote that day’s note right away, without pondering as she usually did. _I’m a bit hurt that you think me so shallow. In my three years at uni, I’ve only really been interested in one bloke, and he’s not at all what you would call a ‘pretty boy’. ~R_

The following Tuesday, the note read, _I certainly don’t think you’re shallow. It’s my own insecurity._

_Please don’t feel that way. Can we meet? Final is next Thursday. Maybe we could study together? ~R_

_If we’re to do this, I think it would be best to wait until after the module has ended. That way, neither of us gets (any more) distracted. Is that alright?_

Rose huffed in frustration, then wrote back. _Yes, that’s probably wise, although very frustrating. I’m impatient. Can we meet Thursday night, after the final? ~R_

On Tuesday, the day of exam prep, she got his reply attached to the pink and yellow rose. _Yes. Let’s meet for coffee, as you suggested. I’ll be at the Bad Wolf Tea Shoppe at 8pm. You’ll know me because I’ll have Thursday’s rose with me. After you meet me, if you want, we can go stargazing._

She bit her lip and wrote out her response. _I’m sure I’ll want to. Can’t wait to meet you. ~R_

Thursday morning, when she came in for the exam, there was simply a note there, no rose. She opened it as she took her seat. _Good luck on the exam. See you tonight. x_

“See you tonight,” she whispered to the room at large, biting her lip on a smile, then pulling her head out of the clouds to focus on her last class with the Doctor and the final exam.

@}-->\--------

9 May 2019

Rose dressed with great care that night to go see her admirer, not wanting to overdress, but wanting to look better than she usually did during class. She finally decided that she’d stick out if she were to wear something fancy, so she settled on skinny jeans with a flowy blouse, her prettiest casual outfit. Her flatmate, Amy, lent her a necklace to match and she felt as pretty as she ever did. 

Her nerves were a riot as she made her way to the little tea shoppe, and she did her best to brace herself for what she may find when she got there. There had been almost sixty blokes in her astronomy module, so she had a hard time narrowing it down. She knew who she’d _like_ it to be, of course, but that wasn’t realistic or possible and she pushed the thought out of her head. Whoever this person was, she was grateful to them and was looking forward to spending an evening getting to know them. It couldn’t possibly be the Doctor, that was absurd, but whoever it was was obviously a nice person who’d made her semester brighter. 

Blimey, she was nervous. 

When she stepped into the Bad Wolf, feeling as if she were about to jump out of her skin, she was surprised to see the Doctor sitting there, as if he’d manifested himself directly from her daydream. His tall, lanky frame was folded into a chair at a table and his sharp features wore an expression she’d never seen before. He looked… tense. Anxious. The low light of the tea shoppe glinted off his dark-rimmed glasses and he mussed his wavy hair when he ran his fingers through it. It was terribly endearing and she bit her lip, feeling a flare of wild hope just from his presence. 

He caught sight of her as the door closed, and she couldn’t help but smile back when he smiled at her. It faded a bit when she noticed he didn’t have a pink and yellow rose, but she did her best to shrug that off. She’d known it wasn’t him, and hoping it would be was ridiculous. 

Quickly, she glanced around the tea shoppe and didn’t see any other familiar faces, nor anyone with a rose. She checked her watch - she was right on time. Perhaps he was late.

“Miss Tyler,” the Doctor said, greeting her - and taking her completely off guard. She’d had no idea he knew her name. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Hello, Dr. Docherty,” she started, approaching his table. 

“Now, enough with that. You’re not in my module anymore, feel free to call me Ian.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest like a butterfly batting against a cage. “Thank you, that’s very kind, although I’ll likely forget and refer to you as the Doctor.”

“Whatever you want to call me is fine.”

She stood awkwardly beside the table, wanting to sit, wanting to flee, having no idea what to do. Deciding she wanted to prolong the joy of talking to him just a bit longer, she asked, “Are you waiting for someone?” 

“Ah, in a manner of speaking,” he said, blushing a little, and she tamped down the stab of jealousy that brought on. 

“Ah. Well. I’ll leave you be, then. It was—”

“No!” he interrupted her, holding out a hand as if to stop her. Then he seemed to catch himself and withdrew. “I mean, no, you don’t have to leave. Sit, have a coffee. We can chat, if you like.”

Oh, Rose liked. She liked very much. Without allowing herself to think about it too much and trying very hard not to flush, she nodded and pulled out the chair across from him, taking a seat. As much as this moment was a daydream come true, she vowed to excuse herself if she saw a gentleman come in with a pink and yellow rose. She wanted to honor the ‘date’ she’d made for tonight. 

“Who are you meeting?” she asked to break the ice. Before she could think better of it, she went on. “Wife? Girlfriend?”

His eyes widened a fraction, then he chuckled and looked away. “No, no, nothing like that. Don’t have one of those.”

It was Rose’s turn for widened eyes. She’d just assumed that a man as handsome as him would at least have a girlfriend, if not a wife. Suddenly, being stood up by her admirer didn’t seem like such a terrible fate.

“How about you?” he asked after the waitress took Rose’s order. “Here to see a boyfriend?”

“Um, no, not really,” she hedged, not really sure how to proceed - or if she even wanted to.

Dr. Docherty raised one eyebrow. “Not really? Yes or no questions tend to have more definitive answers,” he teased. 

Rose felt herself flushing again. “I know. Sorry for being vague. It’s a long story, I suppose. I don’t have a boyfriend and haven’t for several years, since before I started uni. But…” She hesitated for a moment, picking at her nails. “There was a bloke. In your astronomy class, actually. He left me a rose on my desk every morning.”

“Ah, yes. I remember seeing the flowers. You’re here for a date with him?”

“Kind of. I don’t know who he is. Sort of a ‘secret admirer’ situation, I suppose. I asked if I could meet him so I could thank him for making me smile this semester.”

“I’m quite sure your smiles were thanks enough,” the Doctor said, eyes twinkling behind his specs. 

“Maybe he might think so, but I’d still like to thank him in person. Seems the least I could do.” 

There was a silence at the table, then the Doctor broke it. “I don’t see you in any of my other classes, so I assume you’re not an astronomy major.”

Rose laughed. “No, I’m nowhere near clever enough to major in astronomy. I took the class as an elective because I’ve always enjoyed space, but my major is art.”

“Art?” he asked, looking intrigued. “Are you any good?”

She shrugged shyly. “I don’t think so, but I get good marks. I’m hoping to work as a curator - I don’t believe I have the chops to make it as an artist.”

“I’m sure you’re brilliant,” he assured her, and Rose glanced up at him. He looked genuine, even eager. “I’d love to see your work sometime.”

Rose felt a smile blooming across her face. “I’d like to show you sometime. Some of my work this past semester has been inspired by your class, actually.”

“Well, then, I should buy it and display it,” he said with a little note of finality, as if the matter was settled. 

“You can have it,” Rose told him quickly, then blushed again. “I mean, I’d like for you to have it.”

He looked a little stunned. “I’ll treasure it always.”

She was sure her face was on fire and glanced down at her coffee. 

“When do you graduate?” he asked, clearing his throat and changing the subject. 

“December,” she told him. “I’m taking a module during summer term, and then I’ll have three in the autumn. With any luck, I’ll get my first.”

“Well, my class won’t be a hindrance to your first,” he informed her, smiling. “You passed, with flying colors.”

“Really?” she squealed, excited. Her marks had been good, but there was always that nagging worry. 

“Really. Better than several of my astronomy majors, in fact.”

Rose let out an excited giggle. The Doctor’s face was more relaxed than it had been all night and she thought him even more handsome than she ever had before. Which was saying something.

The waitress returned with Rose’s drink, then she and the Doctor talked for hours, chatting and laughing about all manner of subjects, getting to know one another better. Spending time with him was so comfortable, so easy, that she nearly forgot all about her admirer - and that was alright. She was entirely too happy in the moment to waste time thinking about anyone else. More than once, their hands brushed against each other at the small table and every time they did, Rose swore she could feel a jolt of electricity shoot straight up her arm. She’d thought she was wild about him before, but that was before she’d spent the evening looking into his blue-green eyes, talking about nothing and everything. 

It was a surprise when the waitress came to the table and informed them that the Bad Wolf would be closing in fifteen minutes. 

“Blimey,” she marveled. “It’s nearly eleven. We’ve been here three hours! Time got away from me.”

“Your date never showed up,” Ian observed, watching her carefully. 

She shrugged. “He must have gotten cold feet or something. But that’s alright. I had a lovely time chatting with you.”

“Oh?”

Her face glowed, but she nodded. “I did. I’d - I’d like to do it again sometime.”

The Doctor looked a little surprised, but terribly pleased. “I’d like that.”

They settled the check quickly and Rose was delighted when he offered his elbow. She slipped her hand into it, smiling up at him, radiantly happy, and they stepped out onto the pavement.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “No, I suppose I’m just going to call it a night.”

“We could walk a while, if you like,” he offered, “and then I’ll walk you home. It’s a lovely night. Shame to waste it.”

She nearly melted into a puddle. “I’d love that.”

They walked all over the city, and after about an hour, when they were at a zebra crossing, the Doctor reached down and took Rose’s hand. She laced her fingers with his and laid her head over on his shoulder. She couldn’t be sure, but she swore she felt his lips press against the top of her head. Rose was grateful he was holding her hand, otherwise she might have floated away. 

After a little while longer, they had circled back to where they started. Both had lost track of the time and Rose was surprised when she realized it was almost two am. 

Ian pointed out a boxy SUV at the end of the block the tea shoppe was located on. 

“That’s my car,” he told her.

“Oh,” Rose said, thinking he meant to call an end to their night. “It’s very nice.”

“I’d still like to walk you home, but there’s something I’d like to grab, if you don’t mind.”

With any other bloke, Rose would assume he was speaking about condoms and thought that walking her home meant she would be sleeping with him. But that didn’t seem right… he’d been an absolute gentleman all night. Surely he didn’t…

Confused, Rose nodded and said, “Alright.”

Ian raised their joined hands and kissed the back of hers, then let go with a “Be right back.” He jogged the last few feet to his car, unlocked it, and leaned inside. She couldn’t see what he was doing, but when he stood back up, he shuffled something behind his back. He locked the door and walked back to Rose. She watched him curiously. 

“What are you up to?” she asked when he got close. 

He was shifty, not meeting her eye, shuffling from foot to foot, one hand still behind his back. Rose’s curiosity grew.

“Are you alright?”

“I told myself this was stupid, that you wouldn’t appreciate it, but I --” He paused. “I picked these up for you before I got to the tea shoppe. Maybe I’m a fool, but… I want you to have them.”

He brought his hand out from behind his back and Rose was floored to see that he held a large bouquet of pink and yellow roses - at least two dozen. The flowers were wrapped in green florists’ paper and there was a pink bow tied around them. She was shocked into silence, with absolutely no idea what to say. Dumbly, she looked up at Ian. His face was guarded, his entire body tense. 

“They’re from you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“All this term...?”

“All from me. I wanted… At first, I just wanted to see you smile. You should smile all the time, Rose. I love to see you happy. But then you asked to meet and the desire to get to know you was nearly overwhelming. I just… I never believed in ‘first sight’ until you came along. But I felt something the first moment you walked into my class, and --”

He was cut off when Rose threw her arms around him and pressed her lips to his, kissing him firmly. In the space of two heartbeats, his arms had gone around her, still clutching the roses, and he was returning her kiss, sliding his lips across hers, making her knees absolutely weak. He nibbled at her lower lip and she opened for him, accepting the gentle invasion of his tongue, carding her fingers through his hair. With every moment that passed, she melted further into his embrace until she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. 

Seconds or hours later, he pulled back, pressing little kisses to her lips, her cheeks, the tip of her nose. Rose smiled under the attention.

“I can’t believe it was you,” she marveled in a quiet voice.

“Disappointed?”

She shook her head. “No. An absolute dream come true. I’ve been that pathetic girl with a crush on her lecturer all semester. I just figured you didn’t notice me.”

“Oh, Rose Tyler,” he said in a low, rumbling voice, his accent rolling over her name and making her feel all wibbly. “I noticed you. I’m sorry we didn’t go stargazing tonight. Perhaps another time.”

“Oh, I very much hope so.” 

Before she could blink, he was kissing her again, his lips opening and closing on hers. He only pulled away long enough to tilt his head and come at her from another angle, and the teasing movements left her wanting more, desperate for more of his touch, dying to feel him closer. 

“So what now?” she asked when he backed away again, breathless, looking up into his eyes.

“Now I walk you home safely, kiss you goodnight, and try to convince you to let me see you again sometime.”

Her tongue went to the corner of her mouth. “You don't have to convince me. I want to see you as much as possible.”

“Fucking brilliant.”

Rose giggled, then gazed up at him. “Thank you.”

“For what, sweetheart?”

“Making me smile.”

“You’re welcome. I hope to do that quite a bit more in coming days.”

She was absolutely certain he would.


	2. Chapter 2

13 May 2019

Dr. Ian Docherty, known around campus colloquially as ‘the Doctor’, was in a fucking _fantastic_ mood. He honestly couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt as good as he felt right now, strolling along the pavement, headed to the Fox and Badger to have a pint with his best mate on a Monday evening. It wasn’t excitement at seeing Fergus, although he _was_ looking forward to that. It would be nice to blow off a bit of steam after a long term. And it wasn’t even having finished his last final of the semester today, although that was certainly pleasant. No, his good mood was entirely down to one blonde art student.

Following his date with Rose Tyler last Thursday, when he’d walked her home, he’d asked to see her again. She’d accepted, much to his delight, and he’d thought he might fly away, standing on the curb outside her flat. But, she’d told him with obvious regret, she still had one more final to go, for her most difficult art class to date, and her attention needed to be focused on that for the next few days. She also had her work to take into consideration, she said, as an intern for a prestigious local art museum, and she had a handful of shifts over the next few days. 

Ian did his best not to be disappointed: he knew all too well how demanding life could be during finals week. At the time, he’d had one more final to administer Monday morning and the papers from two other modules to grade. His focus really should be on work, as well. So they’d agreed to meet on Tuesday evening, after finals were behind them, when Rose had the night off. Ian had been determined to finish all of his work by Tuesday afternoon, so he could be free to focus all of his attention on her. 

He’d finished early, grading the last exam paper a little over an hour ago, then logging the final grades into the computer system just before he left to come meet Fergus. It hadn’t been easy to focus. His thoughts had been full of Rose and the way her hand fit into his, the way she felt wrapped in his arms, and the way her kisses set his blood on fire. They’d exchanged multiple flirty texts, too, that had been more than a little distracting. But he’d forced himself to buckle down and finish the work, telling himself that business had to come before pleasure. Now that his work was finished for the moment, he only had to fill the next twenty-four hours until he could see her again. 

The bell on the door of the pub jangled ineffectually, drowned out by the sound of the post-finals crowd inside. He and Fergus had been coming here since they were undergrads themselves, twenty years ago, and very little had changed in the interim. Ian peered around the room, his eyes adjusting to the lower light, until he caught sight of his best mate sitting in a corner booth. He raised his hand in salute then made his way over, smiling. 

“Dipshit,” he greeted Fergus, extending his hand. 

Dr. Graham Fitzgerald, known to his best mate by his middle name, Fergus, took the hand offered to him. His smile lit his handsome face, and the lights of the pub glinted off of his light ginger hair. “Bampot,” he greeted Ian. “You look exceptionally lovely today. New anti-aging cream?”

“Ha-ha,” Ian replied deadpan, sliding into the booth across from him. “You’re hilarious.”

“Of course I am,” Fergus stated with a grin, then took a sip of the lager in front of him. “Had a good end to the term, did you?”

Ian’s mind flashed back to Rose for just a second, and he felt himself light up a bit. “Actually, I did.”

“You must have finished your grading, then.”

“Yep. Just entered the scores before I came here.”

“Lucky bastard,” Fergus groused good-naturedly. “I’ve still got a module and a half’s worth of papers left to grade, and my eyes may be crossed by the time I’m finished.”

Ian snorted at the familiar complaint. “That would be a good look for you. Maybe if you didn’t set all your classes a fucking term paper as their final, it wouldn’t take so damn long.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Astronomy and physics lend themselves well to traditional tests. English and literature - not so much.”

“Fair enough,” Ian agreed amicably, then looked around the pub. “Speaking of taking too damn long, who do you have to blow around here to get a lager?”

“Ah, lighten up. The pub is busy, people are blowing off steam after finals. It won’t kill you to wait, ye dobber.”

It wouldn’t, that was true, but he caught the eye of one of the waitresses and flagged her over anyway. Within a couple of minutes, he had his lager. He took a long sip and set the pint glass down, smacking his mouth a little. 

“Ah, that’s the good shit right there. How’s Osgood?”

Three years ago, at a university party, Fergus had lay eyes on a young, nerdy woman and demanded to know who she was. Ian had recognized her as the newest member of the science department faculty, and Fergus had begged for an introduction. A mystified Ian hadn’t even known her name at the time, but had still figured out a way to put the new researcher and his best mate in front of each other. The two had been inseparable ever since. 

Fergus scoffed a little. “You probably see Oz more than I do right now, she’s working so much. If she’s not in the lab, she’s teaching. I’m hoping after this week, when there’s only the lab for me to compete with, she’ll be home more. Maybe, if I’m very lucky, I’ll even be able to talk her into taking a holiday. Ever been to Aruba?”

Wildly, Ian thought of whisking Rose away to somewhere sunny and tropical - then mentally slammed the brakes on himself. They’d only been on _one_ date, it was entirely too soon to be thinking of things like that. Maybe after they’d been dating a couple of months…

He cleared his throat subtly. “No, I’ve never been to Aruba, but I’ve heard good things. And it sounds like you both need it.”

“I definitely think it will be good for us. We’re not having problems or anything, there just comes a point every semester where we don’t see each other for days on end, and it gets tiring. A little downtime with my love would be refreshing.”

“Well, I hope you get it.”

“Me, too.”

“Although that will disappoint your female students greatly.”

Fergus snorted. “As if I’d ever date a student.”

Ian squirmed internally a little, thinking of Rose. He did his best not to let on, though, forcing a smile at Fergus’ remark. 

His best mate didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, just took a swig of his lager and set down the glass with a smile. “So! Enough about me. How are things with you?”

“Fine.” 

“Nothing interesting to report?”

He swallowed. Fergus was his best mate, and there would be no way to keep this from him for long. He wasn’t quite ready to confess that he was dating a student, not even to Fergus, but if he and Rose were to date long-term, eventually Fergus would know. Besides, Ian was happier about this than he could remember. His heart was full of joy and Rose, and he wanted to share that with someone. Who better than his best friend?

Maybe he’d tell Fergus _some_ of his news, but not all. 

“Actually,” he started, “I do have some news. I have a date tomorrow night.”

Fergus’ eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “You? Have a date?”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Always with the fucking tone of surprise.”

“But you haven’t been on a date since --”

“Don’t even mention her. And I _have_ been on a couple of dates since, but nothing worth noting.”

“Still. A couple of dates in four years…”

“Yeah. It’s been a bit of a dry spell.”

“So who is this girl? Do I know her?”

Ian shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of.”

“Well? Who is she?”

“Jesus, Fergus, fucking pushy much?” he complained, although his best mate was doing _exactly_ what Ian had expected him to do.

“I’m just curious what woman could have your interest. You’re somewhat picky, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“It’s served me well,” Ian retorted. “Kept me from ending up fucking stuck with some hateful old hag.”

“Yes, but I know you’ve been lonely, too. So go on. Tell me. Who is this woman?”

Ian took another sip of his lager, weighing his words. “Let me date her for a while. Get to know her a bit before I saddle her with my best mate and his endless fucking questions.”

“Just give me her name,” Fergus wheedled. “I could google her. Make sure you’re not about to take a psycho to dinner.”

“She’s not a psycho, and absolutely not. You’ll meet her when I’m fucking ready to introduce you.”

Fergus sighed dramatically. “You’re such a spoilsport.”

Ian snorted. “I’ve been called fucking worse, often by you.”

His best mate eyed him for a minute, looking speculative, then asked, “Tell me about the date, then. Where are you taking her?”

“This little bistro in Covent Garden called Mancini’s. Donna was raving about it not long ago, I figured it would be nice.”

“Covent Garden, eh? Going to take her to a play?”

“Not this date, but maybe sometime.”

“So you’re just going to dinner and then…?” He left the question open-ended and Ian knew exactly what he was thinking.

“No, you fucking lech, I’m taking her to dinner and then letting her decide. It depends on what she’s comfortable with. She may not want to be alone with me on only our second date.”

Fergus’ eyebrows disappeared again. “Oh, this is your _second_ date, is it?”

“We met for coffee last week,” he acknowledged. 

The man across from him sat back in his seat, still giving Ian a look. Ian didn’t flinch, although he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the scrutiny. After a moment, Fergus threw up his hands and slouched. 

“Oh, alright. Keep your bloody secrets. But if you date this bird for any length of time, I want to meet her.”

“Fergus, it is my dearest fucking hope that I date this woman long enough for you to meet her - and then some.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Fergus said, raising his glass, and the two men toasted.

@}-->\--------

14 May 2019

Ian debated to himself as he checked his appearance one last time in the mirror before leaving to go get Rose. His internal question was pushed to the side when he saw the silver in his dark hair, and he sighed. What on earth would a young, vibrant woman like Rose see in an old git like him? He had no idea why she’d ever be interested in him, but he very much wanted to _keep_ her interest. He whispered a little prayer that he’d be able to do that tonight. 

He’d been going back and forth about what to do with Rose after dinner for days. When Fergus had asked yesterday, he’d told his best mate that he intended to let Rose decide, and that was true, but he planned on presenting a couple of options for her to choose from. He liked the idea of taking her stargazing, considering the way they’d met. He wanted to seem impressive and to really wow her, though. The observatory at the university would be the most likely to leave her in awe of him, but there were drawbacks. First, she may not be interested in infrared maps of the sun and the like. Besides that, it wasn’t a terribly romantic place. The whole building was lit with harsh fluorescent light that didn’t make him look any younger, and there were always people around, even late into the evening. In fact, he could very easily run into Osgood while he was there, since she kept such odd hours. That idea didn’t appeal to him overmuch. And even if they _didn’t_ run into Osgood, it was impossible that they wouldn’t run into some other colleague of his. A good deal of his research was done through the observatory, and aside from his office, it was the place he spent the most time on campus. 

His other option was to take her to a little place he knew just outside of town called Coal Hill. It was quiet, dark, and an ideal place to set up his telescope. He’d been there many, many times over the last twenty years or so, watching various celestial phenomena. It was terribly romantic, he thought, and very private. They weren’t likely to be disturbed there. But while that was a bonus to his mind, it might not be to Rose’s. He hadn’t taken anyone there in years, but the idea of taking Rose there just felt… right.

He resolved to himself - yet again - to let the evening be his guide. He’d feel her out, then present the options to her. Who knew? Maybe she wouldn’t even _want_ to spend more of her evening with him. Maybe she was regretting agreeing to this date. Maybe she had been caught up in the moment last Thursday and hadn’t meant it when she said she’d been daydreaming about him all semester. Maybe -

No. Letting his mind wander was doing nothing but giving him anxiety, and he didn’t need or want that. He was going on a date with Rose Tyler, the girl he’d been thinking about for months, and he was over the moon. It was time to focus on her and not the nagging doubts he felt. 

Doing his best to brush aside his feelings of anxiety about the evening’s plans, he grabbed the rose he’d picked up for her earlier in the day from the table where it sat, then left his flat and locked the door. It was time to go get Rose, and despite his nerves, there was a definite spring to his step as he went to his car, a boxy old Range Rover he’d had since undergrad. 

Within minutes, he was pulling up at Rose’s flat. He checked his appearance one last time, making sure he looked as presentable as he possibly could, then nodded to himself and got out of the car, trying to swallow his heart in his throat. 

Rose had told him that her flat was on the second floor, and he climbed the stairs two at a time, eager to get there. Once he was in front of her door, 218, he raised his hand and knocked, the flower behind his back. He checked his watch while he waited - it was 6:28. He was just in time. 

“Coming!” he heard from the other side of the door, but it didn’t sound like Rose. His smile fell a little and he checked the door number again, but before he could check his mobile to verify the message she’d sent him, the door opened on a gorgeous redhead wearing a bright but mischievous smile. 

“Um, hello,” he started. “I’m looking for Rose…”

“My flatmate,” the ginger girl said. “You must be the Doctor. I’ve heard loads about you.”

Ian wondered desperately just what she’d heard, but didn’t ask. “Ah, yes. Yes, I am.”

She gave him an appraising look, up and down, a small smile quirking her lips. Her eyes caught on the rose and he glanced down at it, himself. 

“Come in,” she finally said, holding the door wider. 

He stepped through the door into the tiny foyer, and the red haired girl closed the door behind them. “I’m Amy,” she tossed out, passing him to go further into the flat. “Rose will only be a mo. Last minute wardrobe change,” she explained. “Come in and have a seat.”

Ian did as instructed, following Amy past the kitchen and into the lounge, having a look around. It was small and typical of most university students’ dwellings, albeit a bit more feminine than he was used to. The couch and chair were covered with a burgundy slip cover and there were several throw pillows in jewel tones. The lamps were mismatched, but almost stylishly so, and there were several posters on the wall that tied in with the other decor. Tchotchkes and assorted bric-a-brac sat around the small room and added a homey touch. It was a charming little flat, he thought, just what he’d pictured for Rose. He just hadn’t counted on a roommate.

Amy plopped down into the chair, crossing her legs, and gestured to the couch. Ian followed the unspoken command and sat on the edge of it, his nerves barely contained. 

“You’re a lecturer.” It wasn’t a question, and Ian had the sudden feeling he was being interviewed for a job. 

“That’s right. Astronomy and Physics.”

“And you met while she was in your module.”

He squirmed. “In a manner of speaking…”

“You were her secret admirer,” Amy stated baldly. 

He swallowed his nerves and answered. “Yes. I was.”

Her face split into a huge smile. “God, she was so excited about that. The roses, I mean, and the notes. Every Tuesday and Thursday, it was like she was dancing on air. Of course, she was conflicted, too, because she wasn’t really attracted to any of the blokes in her class... only the lecturer.” 

Amy’s eyes twinkled at him and he felt himself relax, grateful for the confirmation that Rose had fancied him, before she even knew who he was. 

“I was thrilled for her when she stumbled into the kitchen for coffee last Friday morning, smiling like a loon, and told me her secret admirer had been you all along.”

“I was rather thrilled, too,” he confessed. 

“Are you allowed to do this?” she asked suddenly. 

He was taken a bit off guard. “Do what?”

“Date your student.”

“She’s not my student any longer, and nothing untoward or inappropriate happened - until after finals.”

“But it’s still taboo, yeah? A lecturer dating an undergrad, that is.”

He opened his mouth to respond but a voice spoke up, “Knock it off, Amy.”

Ian raised his eyes to see Rose standing in the entrance to what he assumed was her bedroom, giving her flatmate a reproving look. He got to his feet and she turned her eyes towards him, her wide mouth spreading into a bright smile, and he felt his knees weaken a bit from the force of it. 

“Hi,” she said, her cheeks coloring prettily. 

“Hi,” he managed to get out, feeling like he was gaping but unable to stop himself. She’d dressed casually, as he’d suggested, but there was still something incredibly elegant about her, as well. He assumed it was most likely just her. Her blouse was flowy and white, eyelet lace over a camisole, and she’d matched it with a pair of denims that were distressed and cuffed and clung to her like a second skin. He glanced down at her feet to find that she was wearing tan, strappy heels, and her pink-painted toes peeped out at him. Her jewelry was understated, just a pair of hoop earrings and a couple of silver bangles on one wrist. By all rights, it was a very casual outfit, but he’d never seen anyone look more stunning.

Rose looked down at herself self-consciously. “Do I look alright? You said casual, but I--”

“You look beautiful,” he interrupted, unable to hold that thought in for another moment. “Absolutely lovely.”

She tucked her hair behind her ear and her tongue came to the corner of her smile. He was going to have problems if she gave him that look too often.

“You don’t look so bad, yourself,” she told him, eyeing him up and down. 

Ian looked down at his own outfit. He’d worn a graphic t-shirt under a blazer with narrow, dark jeans and his Doc Marten boots. It was a fairly standard outfit for him: he wore something similar to teach all the time, and he hadn’t wanted to seem too eager. But if Rose liked it…

“Thank you,” he told her sincerely, wishing he could kiss her. 

“Amy wasn’t telling you anything embarrassing, was she?”

From her place on the chair, Amy scoffed. “No, more’s the pity. We hadn’t gotten to the embarrassing stuff yet. If I tell you you have something in your teeth, would you go check it so I have time to tell him everything he needs to know?”

“You’re a wretch,” Rose said with a roll of the eyes. “An absolute pest, Amelia Pond.”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that,” the redhead said unrepentantly. “Say, Doctor, don’t you have something there for Rose?”

Ian looked at her dumbly for a second, then down at his hand that was clutching the pink and yellow rose. “Ah, yes. I brought you this,” he said, feeling about as suave as a prepubescent boy. 

Rose took it, her hand brushing his, and just as he had the week before, he felt a jolt from her touch. She brought the flower to her face, ostensibly to sniff it, twirling the flower against her smiling lips. He could honestly say that he’d never wanted to be a flower before in his life, but he did right at that moment. 

“Thank you,” she said sweetly. “I’ll just go put this in water, then we can go. Yeah?”

“Absolutely,” he agreed.

Rose turned to Amy and pointed a finger. “You behave. I’ll only be gone thirty seconds, that’s not nearly enough time to tell him whatever you want to tell him.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Amy called after her retreating back, grinning to herself. Then she turned to Ian, somber. “You’re going to take care of her, right? I don’t want to see her hurt by some smooth-talking, older bloke who’s only after a young girl to stroke his ego.”

Ian stammered at that, trying to form a protest, but before he could get anything intelligible out, Rose had reappeared. “Right then. Are you ready to go, Doctor?”

“Yes,” he said, patting his pockets to make sure he had his keys and wallet. It wouldn’t do to get to the restaurant and not be able to pay. Before he followed Rose from the flat, he turned to Amy. “It was very nice to meet you, Amy. I hope to see more of you. And you don’t have to worry - Rose is in very safe hands.”

“I certainly hope so.” 

Rose took his hand to lead him out and he felt his heart flutter in his chest from the contact. He’d follow anywhere she led. 

“You two kids have fun,” Amy called as they were leaving. “Curfew is midnight!”

Rose scoffed as she shut the door behind herself. “Curfew. That’s a laugh.”

Ian hoped wildly that that meant she didn’t want to put any kind of constraint on their time together, but didn’t voice that. Instead, he retook her hand.

“Ready to go?”

“Absolutely.”

“Let’s go, then.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So what does the infamous Doctor like to do? Besides teach, that is.”

Ian looked up from the food that had just been delivered. Rose was picking at her salad with her fork, as if trying to decide which bite to take. She wasn’t looking at him, but a small smile curved her mouth. 

He tried to seem equally casual. “I like to travel, I like to play my guitar…”

That got him a look. “You play guitar?”

“I do. I was in a band in uni, but didn’t have the time for it when I was revising for my first doctorate. I still enjoy playing, although now it’s just for fun. No band.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Your _first_ doctorate?”

He felt a little sheepish. “Yes. I have two - astronomy and physics.”

Rose let out a low breath. “Wow.”

“What?”

“It’s just… I knew you were dead clever. Bound to be, as a lecturer. But to have _two_ doctorates…”

“It’s nothing terribly special,” he protested lightly. Although he was very proud of his accomplishments, he absolutely didn’t want to intimidate her. “My friend Osgood - my best mate’s girlfriend - she has two doctorates, as well. It’s not a big deal.”

“Seems like a big deal from this side of a bachelor’s degree,” Rose disagreed, but she smiled at him. That smile eased his mind a bit. 

“Is that all you like to do? Travel and your guitar?”

“No, I like all sorts of things. I enjoy reading, going to museums…”

“Academic pursuits,” she teased. 

He gave her a crooked grin. _Fuck, she’s gorgeous._ “Academic pursuits,” he agreed. “But I also enjoy typical bloke stuff. Going to the local to have a pint and watch the footie match with my best mate.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned your best mate. You mentioned him last week, too. You must be close.”

“We are,” he acknowledged. “Grew up together in Glasgow, then came to London together to pursue our educations. Now we work together, albeit in different departments.”

“He’s a lecturer, too?”

“He is,” Ian confirmed. “In the English department.”

“Who is he?”

“Dr. Graham Fitzgerald, although I call him Fergus.”

Rose’s face bloomed into a smile. “I’ve had him! First year, I had him for English lit.”

Ian felt a prickle of discomfort, thinking of the way women flocked to Fergus. But all he said was, “Oh?”

She nodded. “He was really great. The first teacher I ever had that could make Beowulf interesting. But blimey, the way some of the girls in my module acted…”

“I’ve heard,” he groused lightly. 

“Yeah. Seems like half the class spent the majority of the semester staring at him with hearts in their eyes. I thought they were all ridiculous until --”

Rose cut herself off, flushing bright red, and Ian was absolutely chuffed when he cottoned on. The implication of what she _hadn’t_ said was delightful. He smiled at her, unable to help himself, then stabbed a bit of broccoli, suddenly jubilant. 

She cleared her throat and seemed to shake off her embarrassment. “Did you tell him…?” she asked, not finishing the question.

“Tell him what?”

Her face was glowing again, and she was looking down at her plate. “Did you, um, did you tell him about me?”

“Oh. A bit,” he allowed. “I told him I had a date tonight, but not who with. He pressed me for details, but I told him I’d tell him more after a few dates. That is,” he hastened to catch himself, afraid he sounded too overconfident, “provided you’re still willing to see me after a few dates.”

Her tongue was at the corner of her mouth again. “Time will tell, I suppose, but that’s looking pretty good right at the moment.”

Ian had never smiled so brightly in his life. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

“That’s fucking fantastic.”

Rose giggled and he winked, then they both went back to their meals. After a moment, she asked, “So how long have you been a lecturer?”

“Since I finished my first doctorate fifteen years ago. Although I handled a few classes as an AT while I was still revising.”

“So that would make you… early forties?”

“Not quite. I just turned thirty-nine last month.”

“That’s not nearly as old as I thought,” she blurted, and he couldn’t help but give her a lopsided grin when she tried to backtrack. “I didn’t mean… that is…”

“It’s fine, Rose,” he assured her. “I know I look older than I am. Mother Nature hasn’t been exceptionally kind to me in that area.”

“I think she’s been plenty kind to you,” she said, then her face flushed scarlet. Ian just grinned. 

“How about you?” he asked to spare her embarrassment. “You’re a senior, so that must make you… twenty-two?”

“I’m twenty-five, actually, as of last month. When I was a teenager, I - well, I made a mistake and dropped out of school before I got my A-levels. It took me a couple years to get back on track.”

“What kind of mistake?”

Rose smiled sadly. “I let a stupid boy turn my head. It cost me time and money - not to mention three years of my life, trying to fix what I’d done - but I got through it and made it to university, after all. He tried, but he didn’t ruin my life.”

Ian felt a hot flash of anger that anyone would try to wreck Rose’s dreams, but didn’t let on. She wasn’t his to protect. Yet. 

“Are we allowed to be doing this?” she asked, breaking into his thoughts and catching him off guard. 

“Doing what?”

“Dating. It’s like Amy said. You’re a lecturer and I’m still an undergrad…”

“You’re not my student, so it should be fine. There is a rule in place against lecturers and students… fraternizing, but as it reads, it only applies if you’re in my module.”

“I _was_ in your module.”

He gave her a knowing grin. “Ah, that’s the key. You _were_ in my module. Past tense. But you’re not any longer, so we’re in the clear.”

“Are you sure?” she pressed. “I’d hate for you to lose your job, or for me to be expelled, this close to the end of my journey…”

“I wouldn’t risk you like that, sweetheart. I wouldn’t dare. What we’re doing is a bit frowned upon, but we’re not out of bounds. Alright?”

She nodded, giving him a small smile. “Alright.”

“Good. Now, what would you like to do after dinner? Assuming you’d like for the date to continue…”

“Of course I would. What did you have in mind?”

He swallowed his nerves and told her, “I’d like to take you stargazing, since we didn’t get to go last week. That is, if you’d like to go.”

“I’d love that. Where to?”

“Well, that’s up to you. We can go to the observatory and I can show you around, maybe introduce you to some people.”

“That sounds… nice,” she said hesitantly. 

“Or...” he started with his heart in his throat again.

“Or?”

“I could take you to Coal Hill. It’s just a little ways outside town, far enough that the light pollution isn’t as bad.”

“Do we need any special equipment?”

“I have a telescope and a blanket already in the back of my car.” 

She smirked at him. “You were awfully certain I’d say yes, then…”

He stammered in an attempt to recover. “No, no, it’s not like that. They both kind of live in my boot all the time. The telescope and blanket. I go to Coal Hill often enough that it doesn’t make sense to remove them.”

“That sounds lovely. Let’s do that.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to push you…”

“I’m sure. I’ve never been stargazing before, and it’s a gorgeous night. Some fresh air would be good, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agreed, feeling like he could take flight. “Let’s go.”

@}-->\--------

After dinner, they climbed into Ian’s older-model Range Rover and he drove them out of town. Rose was terribly excited for the opportunity to have him all to herself for the first time, and she had to fight with her wayward brain to keep it from imagining all sorts of romantic - and sexy - scenarios. She’d daydreamed about this exact situation - stargazing with her gorgeous lecturer. The very idea had even inspired one of her better works this last term. But he’d said stargazing, she reminded herself, not shagging under the stars. Besides, she wasn’t the kind of girl to have sex on the second date, anyway. 

That point was moot, though, really. He’d been a perfect gentleman all night, and for the entirety of their last date, too. He hadn’t even touched her so far tonight, except to put his hand on the small of her back to guide her once or twice. It seemed unlikely he’d try to take advantage of her once he had her all alone. With any other man, she might have felt uneasy at the idea of being taken out into the country at night on a second date but with the Doctor, she felt entirely safe.

They chatted as he drove, and she was proud of herself for being able to maintain a normal conversation, even as she felt like she was going to bubble over with nervous excitement. They talked about their childhoods, him telling her funny stories about himself and Dr. Fitzgerald ( _Fergus,_ she reminded herself), and the scrapes they used to get into. She was hesitant to share with him that she’d been raised on a council estate by a single mum, but he didn’t recoil from her when she finally did. He seemed to take it in stride, and put her at ease by asking interested questions about her childhood and things she did as a child. Before she knew it, she had told him about earning the bronze for gymnastics when she was six and how she became interested in art. The Doctor was an attentive listener and didn’t seem to mind her humble beginnings at all. It made her even more smitten with him, if such a thing were even possible. 

Lights and buildings became more and more spaced out, and after about an hour of driving, the Doctor turned off the highway onto a secondary road. A few miles later, he turned onto another road, then onto a gravel path. Only his headlights cut through the darkness, but he seemed confident in where he was going, so Rose didn’t bother to question him. 

He finally came to a stop partway up a hill. He killed the engine and turned to smile at her, and even in the dark, she could see he was a bit apologetic. “That’s as far as I can drive us, I’m afraid. We’ll have to hoof it from here to the top of the hill.”

“That’s fine,” she told him with a bright smile she hoped was reassuring. “I don’t mind the exercise.”

They got out of the Range Rover and went around to the boot. The Doctor popped it open, but Rose was busy trying to keep the heels of her shoes from sinking into the soft earth. When the Doctor caught sight of her, he raised an eyebrow. “You alright there?”

“Yeah, it’s just my shoes. They’re not exactly great for hiking.”

“Oh,” he said, looking sheepish. “I didn’t take your footwear into consideration.”

Coming up with a solution, Rose said, “I’ll just take them off.” He looked at her blankly, and she felt the need to explain. “You said it’s not far, yeah? I don’t mind walking a little ways while I’m barefoot, especially if it’s nice, soft grass, like this. But if you’d rather…”

“No!” he cut her off, then cleared his throat and softened his voice. “I mean, no, I just thought you’d want to go home now. Every other woman I’ve ever known would have.”

“Well, I reckon I’m just too good,” she teased, but he still looked a little gobsmacked. She furrowed her brow a bit when he didn’t laugh. “Is it a problem that I’m different?”

The Doctor shook his head. “No, it’s fucking _brilliant_ that you’re different. Absolutely fucking brilliant.”

She beamed, her tongue coming to the corner of her mouth. “Good, because I was promised a bit of a show. I hope you intend to deliver, Doctor.”

“Ian,” he corrected her. “I know I said you could call me whatever you like, and you can, but I’d - I’d like it if you called me Ian.”

“Ian,” she agreed, making a mental note to herself. She rather liked the way that sounded, and was flattered to be able to use his real name. She suspected not many people had that privilege, and she was pleased to be one of them. 

“I can get the telescope,” he said, pulling a huge case over to him, “but would you mind carrying the blanket? I’m afraid I can’t get both.”

Rose’s mind flashed to all sorts of things they could get up to on the blanket, and she was grateful that he wasn’t telepathic and able to read her thoughts. She was also grateful for the dark that hid her blush. But she didn’t give voice to any of her wild thoughts, she just accepted the blanket and put her shoes into the boot before he closed it. 

In just a moment, they were climbing the hill on the way to Ian’s stargazing spot. He’d been telling the truth and it wasn’t very far before they reached the crest of the hill. Rose took in the sight of London in the distance, glowing and more beautiful than she’d ever seen it. She wished she had her camera, thinking a photo from this viewpoint might be helpful in her upcoming photography class, but knew a photo could never do what she was seeing justice. The city below was stunning, shining in the dark like an amber jewel. 

Within minutes, Ian had the telescope set up and Rose spread the large blanket nearby. He started by showing her the moon, although only part of it was visible. She was surprised to note the level of detail she was able to see, even with a fairly small telescope. He then showed her Venus, which appeared bright and yellow in the eye piece. He told her all about how it was in many ways Earth’s twin, and was named for the goddess of love, but it was actually more of a hellscape. The atmosphere, rich in carbon dioxide, had rendered it unfit for any sort of life. Due to a runaway greenhouse effect, the surface was hotter than any other planet - hot enough to melt lead. Rose already knew most of what he was telling her, but didn’t dare interrupt. She enjoyed his voice and accent, letting it wash over her. 

After a bit of adjustment, he showed her Jupiter, explaining that its oblong appearance in the eyepiece was due to its four largest moons - which would be more easily visible next month, he said, when the planet was in opposition. Rose couldn’t make out the four moons, but she did notice that the planet seemed just a bit flattened. Ever the lecturer, Ian explained that the moons of Jupiter had been named for the lovers of Zeus, then those he favored, until they finally ran out of names in 2004 and began naming the newly found moons for the descendents of Zeus. Rose listened, fascinated, as he rattled on about the gas giant. 

Eventually, Rose found herself lying back on the blanket they’d brought, staring up at the night sky while he lay beside her, their shoulders nearly touching. He pointed out constellations, telling her the mythology behind each one. She’d never seen anything quite as beautiful as the stars, and his stories were bringing that beauty to life. 

“S’gorgeous,” she marveled, almost to herself. 

“Mmm,” Ian agreed. “I fell in love with the stars when I was a lad.”

“I can see why.”

They lay together in silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. She felt a brush of something against her pinky, and before she had time to wonder what it was, she felt it again, a little stronger this time. Ian was brushing his fingers against hers tentatively, and she bit her lip on a smile. She didn’t react when his pinky and ring finger captured hers, just lay there in the moment, content. It didn’t take long, however, before she felt a flash of boldness and rearranged their hands so they were palm-to-palm, fingers interlaced. He sighed, and even though only their hands were touching, she could feel him relax. She relaxed, too. 

Above her, a shooting star scratched its white light across the sky and she wished on it - even though, at the moment, her life already seemed perfect. 

“This is a daydream come true,” she mused aloud. 

“What is?”

“Being here like this, with you.”

She heard him turn his head to face her, and she turned her face to him, too, smiling a little and biting her lip again. 

“You weren’t kidding?” he asked, sounding a bit vulnerable. “You really had a crush on me all semester?”

Rose nodded. “From the very first class. You walked in, all handsomeness and bluster and gorgeous accent, and I was transfixed. Then you said my name during roll call, and I was a goner.”

He gave her a cheeky grin. “What? Rose Tyler?” he said, rolling the r’s with his brogue, and Rose couldn’t help a delighted shiver. 

“Yes. Just like that. From that moment on, I was like one of those bints in Dr. Fitzgerald’s module with hearts in her eyes.”

Ian chuckled a little at that. “I noticed you that first class, too. I saw this gorgeous creature sitting on the front row, and was absolutely intrigued by her. Kept losing my place in my notes and stumbling like a damn fool. Then, at the end of class, someone said something to you that made you smile, and that was it. Like you said, I was a goner.”

“And then you decided to give me flowers,” she teased. 

“And then I decided to give you flowers,” he agreed. “Well, a few weeks after that. Honestly, I just wanted to see you smile again, and to know I had caused it. It wasn’t long before it was almost an addiction, seeing your smile. So I left roses and notes before every class. I never dreamed you’d write back, though.”

“Are you glad I did?”

He used his free hand to trace her cheek gently. “So glad,” he whispered.

She beamed, thrilled, and wished for him to kiss her. When he didn’t immediately do so, she turned her face back up towards the sky, but tilted her head so it was laying on his shoulder. “So, do you bring dates here often?”

He let out a bark of a laugh that made her grin. “You’re funny,” he accused. 

“I’m serious. A place as wonderful as this? Surely I’m not the first.”

“No,” he admitted quietly. “Not the first, but only the second.”

She twisted her head to look at him, taking in the way the moonlight glinted off his glasses. “You’re serious?”

He nodded, still looking up at the sky, and his thumb brushed along hers absently. “I’ve been coming here since shortly after I moved to London in the late 90’s, but I’ve mostly kept this as a private place to think and commune with nature, if you will. I come here every few weeks, and have for two decades, and always kept it private. But a few years ago, I was dating a woman and decided to bring her here. I wanted to share it with her.”

“What happened?” Rose asked, sensing she wasn’t going to like what he had to tell her. 

“I had intended it to be a very romantic evening, but my plans got blown all to hell. She wanted to do something else, I forget what, and we argued the whole way here. By the time we arrived, I was ready to call off the entire fucking thing. But I figured once she saw the view, and the fact that I was sharing this with her, she’d change her tune. Yeah?”

“She didn’t?”

“No, she didn’t. Boy, was I fucking wrong. When we got here, I unloaded the telescope, and she was complaining about everything. The weather, the darkness, everything. I set up and tried to salvage the evening by showing her a few things, but she took no interest. So I packed it up and took her home. We split up two weeks later, and I couldn’t bring myself to come back here for a while after. It was like she’d soured this place for me. Eventually, I missed it too much and found myself making the drive again. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to stay away long.”

Rose processed this quietly while he gently stroked her thumb. She was honored, absolutely flattered, that he would share something like this with her, especially after the experience with his ex. But she didn’t entirely understand and decided to ask for clarification. 

“Why did you bring _me_?”

Ian squeezed her hand and turned to face her. “You’re different.”

“But you don’t know me all that well. Maybe when you get to know me better, you won’t like what you find.”

“I’m not worried about that, sweetheart. There’s a sweetness to you, a softness, that I don’t think you could fake - and it was entirely absent in her. I’m sure you have some habits or traits that I’m not going to be wild about - like how you didn’t seem to mind the glazed pears at dinner,” he teased with another squeeze to her hand, “but I have no fear that you’re a hard, bitter person deep down inside, like she was.”

Rose was quiet for a moment, then murmured. “I’m sorry she hurt you.”

“We hurt each other,” he said with a little shrug, then went silent. Rose was equally silent, looking up at the stars and lost in her own thoughts. She was surprised a minute later when he rolled so he was lying on his side, facing her. She turned to face him, as well, leaving their hands joined between them. 

“Sweetheart,” he began, and brought his free hand up to cup her cheek. “I know this is only our second date, so this is terribly soon, but… I want to keep seeing you, as often as you’ll let me for as long as you’ll put up with me. I want nothing more than to call you mine. It’s like… something in me awakened the first time I saw you smile, some dormant part of me that I’d assumed I wasn’t capable of. And every moment I spend with you, that part of me grows. When I’m with you, I feel happier and more content than I’ve ever felt in my life . I find myself wanting to make you happy, to know that I was the reason for your happiness.”

She beamed at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. But Rose, sweetheart, historically, I’m shit at this. I gave up on relationships several years ago because none that I’ve ever had has worked long-term. I always find a way to fuck it all up, it seems, and I’m terrified of doing that with you. What if I --”

Rose shut him up by kissing him. He was stiff against her for just a moment until he relaxed into the kiss, leading her to relax, as well. His lips slid over hers softly, his long-fingered hand sliding back into her hair to cup the back of her head, and she’d thought she’d combust from so many joyous emotions. She parted her lips a little, inviting him in, and was thrilled when he took the invitation, sending his tongue out cautiously. She met it with her own, teasing him a little, overjoyed when he made a little growling sound and kissed her more aggressively. She raised her hand to touch his side, flexing her fingers against him. The kiss was slow and sweet, full of emotions and promises, a tender exploration of each other, and it was the most beautiful moment of her life: lying under the stars, kissing this man. 

After a few minutes, she broke the kiss, smiling when he chased her a little, pressing kisses to her mouth. She put her hand on his cheek to get his attention before he kissed her into oblivion and left her unable to remember what she wanted to say. 

“Ian, every relationship fails until you find the right one. My history as a girlfriend isn’t exactly stellar.”

“That had to have been the fault of your idiot boyfriends.”

Rose grinned, running her thumb over his lips. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m not without flaws, like you mentioned. As you’ll find out on your own, over time.”

His eyes widened a fraction. “Do you mean --”

“I want to be yours, just as much as you want to call me yours. Maybe more. I swore off men when I started uni, telling myself that I couldn’t afford to get distracted by blokes when my education was at stake. But I just can’t help it. I was mad about you when I was just a student in your module with a crush and no hope. But now I’ve spent time with you, getting to know you, and ‘mad about you’ doesn’t begin to cover it.”

He kissed her again, a little more fervent this time, but Rose wasn’t about to complain about the intensity. Not when she’d wanted this for so, so long. His tongue slid along hers and she captured it in her mouth, claiming it as her own, determined to maintain that claim forever. Ian groaned and leaned into the kiss, pressing his body against hers, amping up his seduction of her until she was afraid she’d combust. No other kiss had ever made her feel like this. No other kiss had even come close. 

His arm circled her, pulling her body flush to his, and she let go of his hand to wrap her arms around his neck. He held her close, but it couldn’t be close enough for Rose. She wanted to crawl up inside him and stay with him forever. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was delighted to feel him hardening against her abdomen. Perhaps she was the kind of girl to have sex on the second date, after all. 

After a while, he broke away, panting. Rose considered grabbing him by the head and dragging his mouth back to hers, but he spoke. 

“Wait, wait. We have to stop, sweetheart.”

She opened her eyes to look at him, blinking in confusion. “Why?”

“Because if we don’t stop soon, I’m afraid I won’t be able to. And you deserve better than me attacking you on a hillside. You deserve… everything, Rose. The most romantic night of your life.”

Rose smiled a little, tracing her fingertips down his cheek. “Lying with you under the stars? Seems pretty romantic to me.”

He grinned at that, then pressed a quick kiss to her lips. “That’s not the only reason.”

Her smile disappeared and her brows furrowed a little. “Why else?”

Ian took a deep breath, as if weighing his words. “I’m not exactly sure how to phrase what I want to express. I may fuck it all up.”

“Just say it. Is there something wrong with me?”

“No! No, sweetheart. Fuck, no. It’s just… In all my past relationships, sex happened early. We would barely know each other before we took our clothes off. And all of those relationships felt… shallow. Like I never really achieved a deep connection with any of them. It’s that deep connection that was missing, I think, and part of the reason none of my relationships ever lasted more than a few months. Now, I know causation isn’t the same as correlation. I do, I know that. But you, sweetheart… I want to do everything right with you. I _want_ that deep connection. I want… _everything_ , sweetheart, and I’m terrified of doing anything wrong that may fuck that up. I want to make love to you, not simply have sex.” When she didn’t answer right away, he ducked his head a little to meet her eyes. “Am I scaring you? Is this too much too soon? I’m sorry, I’ll—”

“No,” she said, holding to him and keeping him from rolling away from her. “It’s not too much or too soon. I want the same thing. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. Like I told you, I’d sworn off men, but you’re different, and I’m not willing to miss my chance with you. But I’ve never had a deep connection with anyone, either. Not really. How will we know when we find it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “According to all the songs and movies, we’ll just… _know_. You think?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Then she asked, “Will you still kiss me?”

His answer was a kiss, soft and chaste and reassuring. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll still kiss you as much as you want - as much as you’ll let me. I have a feeling I’m going to want to kiss you quite a lot.” She smiled and he bumped her nose with his. “I know this sounds insane, especially in 2019. But do you think we can give it a shot?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. She’d be willing to do nearly anything to be with this man. If he wanted to wait, well, she could wait. She’d been single a long time. What was a few more weeks? “On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Hold me,” she said, feeling shy all of the sudden. “This has been the greatest night of my life. Will you just… hold me under the stars and give me a memory to last a lifetime?”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “Absolutely, sweetheart. It would be my honor.”

Within a minute, they’d rearranged themselves so Ian was lying on his back with his arm around Rose, and she was cuddled into his side, her hand lying over his heart. He covered her hand with his and turned his head to kiss her forehead. She sighed, and they lay there quietly for a while. 

“Penny for ‘em,” he said after a few minutes. 

Rose grinned a little. “I’m just wondering how I’m going to be able to keep from throwing myself at you for the next six months.”

He chuckled. “Well for one, I doubt very seriously it’s going to be six months. I’m quite sure I won’t be able to hold out that long. I’m not even sure I’ll be able to hold out _two weeks_ , but I’m determined to try. As for the other… well, I’m not a madman. If you throw yourself at me, I’m certainly not saying no.”

“I’m going to try not to, though. So long as you promise we can still see each other.”

Ian kissed her forehead again. “Wild horses couldn’t keep me away from you, Rose Tyler. We’ll figure this out together, alright? You and me.”

“You and me,” she repeated, snuggling deeper into his side and nodding off a few minutes later, utterly at peace.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your kudos and comments. I've been discouraged with this story, but knowing people are enjoying has really kept me going. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. <3

27 May, 2019

Ian unlocked the door to his flat and went inside, dropping his keys on the table beside the door and his bag on the cluttered table in his dining room that served as his study. It was the first day of the second week of summer term, during which he was teaching one module: Introductory Physics, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for the next nine weeks. Today had been the first real class after getting through all the typical first week bullshit last week - going over the syllabus, outlining expectations for his module, reviewing to get the students caught up and ready to move forward, and just generally scaring the hell out of them. Not that he _intended_ to frighten them: he strove to be tough but fair, as a lecturer. But physics was a rather intimidating subject for nearly everyone who didn’t already have a great love for it, and, Ian acknowledged, that didn’t apply to most of the population. He could empathize with the students who looked terrified that they wouldn’t understand and therefore, wouldn’t pass. It was Ian’s job to break down the laws of the universe and explain them in a way anyone could grasp, and he took pride in his work. His favorite moments as a lecturer were the ones when a student who had been struggling finally cottoned on and he got to see that gleam of excitement and pride in their eyes. He lived for those moments, and hoped this module would provide at least a few like that.

But the excitement that came with the beginning of every new semester paled in comparison to the excitement he felt about another event: his date tonight with Rose. 

Although Ian was teaching a light course load this summer and thus had more free time than he usually did during the rest of the year, Rose was taking a class of her own and still had work on top of it. She had told him that she needed to pick up as many hours as possible during the summer, since her course load would be heavier during the autumn and she’d have less time to earn money. She needed to grow a bit of a nest egg now to fall back on in a few months, she said. Ian understood, he really did, but he couldn’t help but resent anything that would keep them from spending as much time as possible together. Now that they’d found each other, his inclination was to spend every waking moment with her. He knew that wasn’t logical, feasible, or healthy, but the impulse was there. Blessedly, it seemed Rose felt the same way. 

They’d texted nearly continuously since stargazing at Coal Hill, and had managed to go on a handful of actual dates. On one, Ian had taken her to dinner after she got off of work, and after, they’d gone to a park to people watch until the sun went down. It had been more fun than he expected, but that was part of the magic of Rose, he supposed. They’d made up little stories about the people who passed, guessing their names or occupations, and as the evening wore on, their guesses had gotten sillier. It had turned into something of a competition to make each other laugh, until finally they were the ones getting strange looks from passers-by. By the time the sun went down, they’d spent the last forty-five minutes giggling and had collapsed into each other’s arms. That led to soft kisses and light touches, and they’d spent the rest of the time on that bench making out like a couple of teenagers, until the chill in the night air (and Rose’s need to get up the next morning for work) had driven them from the bench. He’d taken her home regretfully, but was delighted when there was a text from her waiting on his phone when he got home. 

A few days later, he’d picked her up from her flat to take her out, with the grand intentions of treating her to a nice dinner then some other entertainment, whatever she’d like. Much like their first date, though, they’d spent so long at the restaurant talking and gazing into each other’s eyes that by the time they realized the hour, it was too late to do anything. Ian was sorry that he wasn’t able to show her a better time, but when he said so, Rose just gave her musical laugh. “I’m having the time of my life,” she assured him, then her tongue went between her teeth. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

When he’d taken her back to her flat that night, they’d spent a good amount of time parked in his car in front of her building kissing and tentatively touching before they’d broken apart and she’d gone inside. He’d been unable to walk her to her door: his erection had been huge and would have been impossible to hide. So he’d just apologized for being ungentlemanly, kissed her goodnight one last time, and assured her he’d dream about her. When he’d gotten home - after he’d taken himself in hand to relieve his hard-on - he’d done exactly that.

So far, he’d been sticking to what they’d decided between them the night he took her stargazing. He’d been a (near) perfect gentleman. His hands had wandered a bit while they kissed, but all in all, he’d behaved himself. Of course, in every case thus far, they’d either been in public or semi-public locations. Tonight would be different. 

Rose had invited him over to her flat tonight to order pizza and watch something on Netflix. Both of them had been very careful not to utter the words ‘Netflix and chill’, and Ian knew tonight was going to simultaneously be heaven and hell. She would be curled up to him on the couch (he hoped), and he’d get to hold her the way he’d been dreaming about for months. But having her close, in his arms, without being able to touch her the way he was dying to - well, that might drive him mad. Just the thought of her warm body pressed against his made his cock twitch, and he willed himself to settle down. She had a flatmate who may or may not be present. And even if Amy _wasn’t_ there, that didn’t give him carte blanche to molest Rose on her couch. He was more and more sure of his feelings for her every day, but in the living room of her flat was no place to seduce her. He’d have to be on his absolute best behavior tonight. No matter what his fucking cock thought about that. 

His phone rang and he grabbed it excitedly, hoping it was Rose, deflating only a little when he saw it was Fergus. He pressed the green button and put the phone to his face. 

“Fuckwad!” he said by way of greeting.

“Arsebadger!” Fergus replied. “How are you?”

“Not bad,” he allowed, going into his kitchen to grab a water. “How are you?”

“Not bad. Driving home from work, but when I got in the car, I had a message from Oz that she’s stuck at work.”

“Problem at the lab?”

“Probably. My guess is that it originally had nothing to do with her, but you know Oz, she felt beholden to help out. The upshot of all this, though, is that I’m home alone for the evening. Fancy a pint?”

“I would, Fergus, but I have a date.”

“Another one? You mean you haven’t scared this bird off yet?”

Ian took a sip of his water, then snorted a laugh. “Fucking roaster. Believe it or not, no. She seems to be as attracted to me as I am to her.”

He could almost see his best friend’s smirk. “Now this I’ve got to see.”

“Yeah, well, I told you I’d let you meet her after we’d been fucking dating a while.”

“It’s been a while!” Fergus protested. “Two weeks is half a month!”

Ian laughed at that. “I’ll pitch the idea to her tonight, see what she says.”

Fergus sounded surprised. “You’re not going to put me off for months?”

He shrugged, even though Fergus couldn’t see the action through the phone. “I see no reason to wait. This one might actually go the distance, Fergus.”

His best mate’s voice was deadpan. “You’re kidding.”

“I am deadly fucking serious. She’s an absolute dream come true and I’m mad about her. It’s still early days, of course, but I know there’s something about this woman that’s different. She’s… special, as fucking lame as that word is. She has some quality I can’t quite define, but it’s wonderful and I intend to hang on to her as long as I can.”

Fergus was quiet for a moment, then said, “Well, now I absolutely _have_ to meet her. Anyone who could make an arsehole like you wax poetic like _that_...”

Ian laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll talk to her about it tonight. What do you think about next Friday?”

“The 7th?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t you do it sooner?”

“I could, but I don’t want to.”

“Arsehole. Alright, we’ll do dinner at ours on the 7th.”

“That’s subject to her approval, of course.”

“Of course. And in exchange for me waiting so patiently, you’ll go to get a pint with me Thursday night while Oz works.”

Ian did a quick search of his memory to try and remember if Rose was working that night. Unless he was mistaken, she was, and wouldn’t get off until 8:30, so he wouldn’t be able to see her anyway. “Yeah, alright. We’ll grab a pint. Fox and Badger?”

“Where else would we go?”

“Fair point.”

“And you can tell me more about this woman - say, what’s her name? I don’t think you’ve told me.”

Ian _hadn’t_ told him, had deliberately withheld that information in case Fergus recognized it. “I didn’t.”

“Well? What is it? Or is it a state secret or something?”

He snorted. “Fucking wisearse. No, it’s not a state secret. Her name is Rose.” 

“What’s she do, this Rose?”

“She’s working at the Weatherford Arts and Humanities Museum. Just scut work right now, but she’s hoping to be promoted to a curator position soon.” There. That was true enough. He didn’t need to know she was actually working on an internship.

“Well, I can’t wait to meet her. I’m almost to the flat, so I’ll let you go wank in preparation for your date. You lot have fun tonight. I’m just going to watch the match all by my lonesome.”

Ian snorted. “You’ll survive.”

“Talk soon, you dobber.”

“Will do, wanker.”

They rang off and Ian lay the phone down on the counter, then took another swig of his water, glancing up at the clock on the microwave. Blimey, it was getting late. He’d better shower if he were going to make it to Rose’s on time.

Five minutes later found him in the shower, soaping himself up and trying very hard not to think about Rose naked and in the shower with him. He _had_ to get control over himself. Although a hard-on was a logical consequence for the two of them making out and he doubted she faulted him for that, at this rate, he was likely to be sporting wood just from being in the same room as her, breathing her scent. That would never do. He wasn’t after just sex with her, and was determined not to let her get the impression that he was. Rose was better than that, and he wanted more.

He shook his head to clear it and started to wash his hair. As soon as his eyes closed, he could almost feel Rose’s body pressed against him, all soapy and wet, her breasts brushing against his chest. His cock, already hard, strained at nothing, and he did his best to ignore it. But the water sluicing down his body felt just a little too much like fingertips and he groaned, giving in to the temptation. Maybe if he got this out of the way now, he’d have better control over himself later, when he was with her. It hadn’t exactly worked out that way on the last few dates he’d been on with her, but maybe this time would be the charm. 

His eyes slid closed to better facilitate the fantasy that Rose was in the shower with him, touching him, kissing him all over, and he sighed contentedly at the very thought. He fisted his cock and started pumping at once, letting his mind imagine all the ways he would make love to her, all the ways he would make her come apart. His hand gained speed the more detailed his fantasies became, until he was groaning her name, utterly lost in his daydream. He tilted forward and caught himself with one hand on the tiled wall, pumping faster, his face screwed up in a grimace of pleasure. It wasn’t long before he felt the telltale pressure at the base of his spine, and he knew orgasm was imminent. He imagined what Rose must look like when she came, and that did it. He let out a strangled sound as he erupted, his seed hitting the wall, then covering his hand. His breath came in ragged gasps while tingles ricocheted through his entire body and he leaned heavily against the wall, the water beating down on him. He didn’t open his eyes right away, despite the fact his cock was softening in his hand. Instead, he let himself drift into one more fantasy. In this one, he imagined what an afterglow with Rose must be like. There would be lots of kissing and touching, cuddling and petting, and he knew, instinctively, that after the lovemaking would be his favorite part. 

Soon. He’d get to find out first hand in the not-too-distant future. He didn’t believe in much in this life, but he believed in her, and felt as certain as he could that she believed in him, too. He’d never been in love before, had no idea what it felt like, but he knew well enough that if he wasn’t in love with her already, he would be in the very near future. 

Ian sighed, opening his eyes and resuming his shower. He really didn’t have long before he was supposed to be at Rose’s flat, and he still had to pick up her flower and a pizza on the way. He needed to hurry.


	5. Chapter 5

27 May 2019

Rose was tidying nervously, rearranging pillows and knick-knacks, then muttering and putting them back the way she’d had them before. Ian was due to arrive in less than fifteen minutes, and while she’d spent hours with him by now and he’d been to her flat a handful of times either picking her up or dropping her off, she still found herself anxious and trying to make the (already neat) flat tidier. She knew it wouldn’t matter to him what her flat looked like, but she couldn’t help herself. The nervous energy had to go _somewhere_ , so she was rearranging pillows and knick-knacks. 

“Big date tonight?” Amy teased from her bedroom door, leaning against the door jamb with a cup of coffee, smirking at Rose. 

“A date, yes,” Rose replied, trying for nonchalance. “But we’re just hanging out at the flat and eating pizza, then watching a film. No big deal.”

“No big deal. Right. That’s why you’ve moved that glass paperweight seven times already.”

She darted her eyes at Amy. “You counted?”

The redhead gave a delicate shrug. “Lucky guess.”

Rose sighed, plopping down on the couch, her shoulders slumped. “I’m being silly.”

“You are,” Amy agreed. “But this is your first relationship in - how long, now?”

“Five years,” she admitted, feeling a little pathetic. 

“That’s a long time,” Amy said gently, coming to sit beside her. “It’s okay to be a little nervous.”

“That’s just it. I’m never nervous when I’m around him. Being with Ian is the most comfortable I’ve ever been around another person. We just… fit. It’s only when I’m away from him and start thinking about him that I start to get antsy.”

Amy smiled. “You’ve got it bad, Miss Tyler.”

“Yeah,” she confessed with a smile. “I do.”

“Don’t worry. The urge to impress him will die down soon enough and you won’t be so worried about the little things. Before long, you’ll be watching telly together with your feet in cozy socks and your hair up, wearing sweats. He’ll see you at your worst, but I don’t think he’ll care.”

“Have you forgotten how we met?” Rose scoffed. “I was in his 8 am module. He’s already seen me dead on my feet, no makeup, barely out of my pyjamas.”

“And yet he still left you roses every morning telling you how beautiful you are,” Amy pointed out. “So I think you’re in the clear.”

It was a fair point, but logic had no place in Rose’s anxious mind. She sighed, “I suppose.”

“You know I’m right,” Amy gloated. “Now, I have a date with Rory tonight, too. We’d planned on going to dinner then coming back here, but if you need to keep the flat to yourself in order to facilitate wild monkey sex…”

Rose flushed bright red. “It’s not like that.”

“Not like what? I’ve seen you after dates with your lips puffy, hair messy, and lipstick smeared. It’s _definitely_ like that.”

“Not… quite. We haven’t had sex yet, and there are no immediate plans to do so.”

Amy gaped at her. “What do you mean, ‘no immediate plans’?”

Rose did her best to look unruffled, but didn’t meet Amy’s gaze. “Just what I said. We’re waiting.”

“You’re kidding.”

She shook her head. “I’m not. I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s actually really sweet. Both of us want this to be a long-term thing, not a fling. It would be easy to rush into sex, and that would be fun, but sex complicates things. Yeah? We just want to be on steady, stable ground before we take that step.”

Amy was giving her an odd look. “Just how long do you plan to hold out?”

Rose shrugged, but in truth, she was wondering that herself. Her trusty vibrator was getting quite the workout lately, being used almost daily, and sometimes, after dates with Ian, multiple times in a night. She was so hot for him she could barely see straight, but was doing her best to keep that in check. She was rather certain of her feelings for him and had been for months. The last few weeks had only served to make her _more_ sure of how she felt, and she couldn’t imagine the path of her emotions changing course now. But he had to be certain, too. She could wait a while - as long as he kept kissing and touching her. If she got to the point she couldn’t stand it anymore, she’d be brave and tell him how she felt, that she was ready for sex. In the meantime, she’d just keep buying batteries for her mechanical boyfriend. 

“I don’t know,” she answered Amy’s question. “But I’m willing to wait as long as I need to. He’s worth it.”

Amy sighed. “Alright. As long as he’s not taking advantage of you.”

Rose laughed. “This is the exact opposite of taking advantage of me.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Amy allowed, then got to her feet, headed towards the kitchen with her mug. “The offer still stands, though. We can go back to Rory’s flat if you prefer, we just like coming here because his flatmate is so noisy.”

“Yeah, no, it’s fine,” Rose said, following her flatmate into the kitchen and watching her rinse her mug. “We’re just going to be watching a film in the living room.”

“Okay, then,” Amy said cheerfully, setting the mug down then turning to give Rose a hug. “You have fun on your date. Tell me all about it later, yeah?”

“You know I will,” Rose promised, hugging back. 

There was a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it!” Amy chirped before Rose could act, then spun away and dashed for the door. Rose just stood there like an idiot while her flatmate greeted Ian. 

“Hello, Amy,” she heard Ian say. “Is Rose here?”

“She’s in the kitchen, probably compulsively cleaning,” Amy replied.

Rose closed her eyes in mortification. She was going to _kill_ Amy. 

“I’m off for a date,” Amy was informing Ian, undaunted by Rose’s mental murder of her. “You lot have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

The door closed behind her and Ian appeared at the entrance to the kitchen a moment later, a large pizza box balanced on one hand and a pink and yellow rose in the other. At the very sight of him, all of Rose’s anxiety bled away and she smiled. Amazing, the effect he had on her. He likely didn’t even know.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you alright?”

“Of course. Why?”

“Amy mentioned you were compulsively cleaning.”

Rose did her best to roll her eyes and brush that off. “I was a little nervous about tonight.”

“About me being here? I’m sorry. We can go out --”

“No! There’s no need. I’m all better, now that you’re here.”

He gave her an odd look, but seemed to accept her words. “Alright. Where should I put this?” he asked, indicating the pizza. 

“Oh! Yes. Right here is fine. I’ll get some plates.”

He sat the pizza down and she went to the pantry to get a couple of plates and napkins. When she turned back around, he was presenting the rose to her. She felt herself melt and accepted the flower with a smile. 

“Are you going to bring me a rose every time we go on a date?”

“As long as it makes you smile, I’ll bring you a rose. Anything for that smile, sweetheart.”

“You make me smile just by being near me.”

“Noted.”

“How about you just bring me flowers on special occasions?”

“Like Tuesdays? Got it.”

She giggled, then set down the plates and napkins, stepping into his arms. It had been long enough since she touched him. He pulled her close and she slid her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. Yes, she was very sure how she felt about this man. All that was left was for those feelings to grow. 

“Thank you,” she murmured against his chest.

Rose felt his lips against the top of her head. “You’re welcome. I missed you, sweetheart.”

Her arms tightened around him. “I missed you, too.”

He kissed her hair again and she turned her face up to him. He smiled, then kissed her, gently and slowly. She was floating when he pulled away.

“The pizza’s getting cold,” he told her in a low voice, his lip quirked. 

Rose didn’t move right away, just smiled up at him. “Suppose we should do something about that, huh?”

“Probably should,” he agreed, his eyes twinkling. 

She sighed dramatically and stepped out of his arms. “If you insist…”

Ian chuckled and Rose winked, then went to put the rose in water. When she came back, Ian had two plates prepared with a slice of pizza each. She grabbed two cans of fizzy drink and followed him to the table. 

“How is your class?” he asked a few minutes later. “Photography, right?”

“Yes. I think it’ll be interesting. I’ve always liked to take photos, but they’ve been rubbish.”

A frown crossed his brow. “I doubt they were rubbish.”

Rose gave a gentle smile. “No, maybe not. But learning how the professionals do it can only make my photos better, so that’s good.”

“Do you have a project or paper or…?”

“A project. Like most of my art classes, there’s a gallery show at the end of term. I’ll have to display twenty-five photos I’ve taken with at least one portrait, one still life, one landscape, one action shot, one object study, and a couple other things. I forget exactly.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do brilliantly,” he told her with a bright smile. She smiled back, then took a bite of her pizza. 

“How far out do you get your schedule for work?”

Rose frowned a little in thought. “A couple weeks. We just got a new one. This one goes to the tenth.”

“Are you working next Friday? The 7th?”

She pulled out her mobile to check. “I am, but I get off at four. Why?”

“Fergus is pestering me to meet you. He’s invited us to dinner at his next Friday night. Would you like to go?”

A smile spread across her face. “You want to introduce me to your best friend?”

“Why wouldn’t I, sweetheart? He’s going to love you. Besides, I’ve met _your_ best friend.”

That was true. “I just didn’t expect you’d want to take me around people so soon, is all.”

Ian reached across the table and took her hand. “Sweetheart, I’d fucking love to show you off to the world.”

She bit her lip on a smile. It wasn’t a declaration, not really, but Rose took his words and request to mean he was feeling about her the way she was feeling about him. It made her even more mad for him. 

“I’d love to do dinner with your friends,” she told him honestly, smiling. He smiled back at her, his blue-green eyes crinkling at the corners. Blimey, she was crazy about this man.

They finished dinner and cleaned up quickly, then made their way into the lounge. Ian dropped into the corner of the sofa while Rose located the remote, then went to join him. He raised his arm to the back of the couch in invitation and she took it, snuggling up beside him. Once she was settled against his side with his arm securely around her, she turned to the telly and started a documentary she hoped they’d both find interesting. Not that she was all that anxious to pay attention to it…

She leaned forward to place the remote on the coffee table, then settled back into his arms. His scent surrounded her, something clean and a little spicy, and Rose found it completely intoxicating. She took deep breaths through her nose to get more of his amazing, sexy smell, then sighed contentedly.

“Comfy?” 

“Mmm,” she assured him, then settled her head at his shoulder.

They watched in silence for ten minutes, but Rose wasn’t absorbing much of what she was watching. Her head was fairly spinning with her circumstances. She’d daydreamed and wished for months, but even when she’d let her mind conjure wild, romantic scenarios for herself and the Doctor, she’d never dreamed she’d _actually_ be here, curled up with him on her couch, his fingertips tracing the skin of her arm and his sexy scent surrounding her. It was almost impossible to believe that she was here, in his arms. 

Unable to resist the impulse another moment, she turned her head and pressed her lips to the side of his neck. He stiffened almost imperceptibly, but didn’t push her away, so she did it again, parting her lips a little. His arm tightened around her, and she elongated herself to kiss the pulse point behind his ear.

“Rose…” he said in a low voice, almost a moan.

“Yes?” she inquired innocently, trailing her lips down the tendon in his neck, thrilled when he leaned his head to the side to give her more room. She couldn’t stop. Didn’t want to stop. And it seemed he didn’t want her to, either.

“You’re not watching the telly,” he pointed out in a rumbling voice.

She grinned against his skin, then pressed a little kiss to his ear. “I’ve found something much more interesting,” she whispered.

His hand slid off her arm and onto her side, plucking at the fabric of her shirt. “Is that so?”

“Mmm,” she purred, darting her tongue out to taste his skin. “That’s so.”

Suddenly, before she realized he’d moved, Ian was kissing her, and his tongue was plundering her mouth in the most delightful way. She brought her hand up to touch his cheek, quickly becoming lost in the sensations he was evoking in her and the delightful taste of _him_. The arm that was wrapped around her was pulling her closer and his free hand had come up to her breast, cupping it. She arched into the touch, wanting more, and he massaged her gently. Rose moaned into his mouth. She was on fire, burning from the inside out, and they’d barely done anything. It was just … _him_.

Rose adjusted her body, pulling her legs beneath her, being very careful not to break the kiss. Like lightning, she debated with herself. Should she do what her body was screaming for and try to take things further, or should she back off? It took less than a second to decide. She could take it farther without pushing things _too_ far, couldn’t she? Of course she could. And the way he was kissing her, she guessed that he’d appreciate her moving things along. 

Without allowing herself anymore time to think, she raised herself up and turned her body, putting one of her legs across his and draping her arms around his shoulders. 

“Is this alright?” she asked in a whisper, still hovering above his lap. Ian nodded up at her, mute, his eyes hungry behind his specs. “Are you sure?” she breathed. 

He nodded again, and his hands flexed at her waist. “Yeah.”

She finally settled down into his lap and nearly groaned. Even through layers of cloth - his denims and hers, too - she could feel his erection rubbing against her in exactly the right spot. She ground herself against him, biting her lip at the friction. 

Ian’s mouth went to her neck, licking and suckling and nibbling, while his hands guided her hips in their rolling motions. Rose threaded her fingers through his hair, her nails scratching his scalp a little, and he whined in the back of his throat. She rode him faster, marveling at just how big his cock felt, wondering what it looked like - what it would feel like in her hand or better yet, in her mouth. When his hands slid up her hip and under her blouse, towards her breasts, she breathed, “Yeah” in encouragement, thrilled when he captured them. He squeezed and fondled her breasts for a minute, his hands making her feel things she couldn’t remember ever feeling before. 

Rose used his hair to pull his head back so he was looking up at her, but before either of them could speak, their mouths were engaged in a fierce snog, tongues battling in the hottest, most erotic kiss she had ever experienced. She whined when his hands left her breasts, preparing to break the kiss and demand he put them back, until she felt them at her back, frantically working at the clasp of her bra. She was just on the verge of knocking his hands away and doing it for him when he was successful, and suddenly his warm hands surrounded her breasts, skin to skin, and she gasped.

“That alright?”

“Yeah,” she managed, still riding him enthusiastically, grinding her clit against his hardness. The way he was fondling her, coupled with the blatantly carnal way he was kissing her, had her close to orgasm. She rode him harder and faster, chasing the crest, moaning like a tart and not caring at all. 

Rose broke the kiss to gulp air and informed him in a whine, “I’m close. Oh, God, Ian, I’m close. You’re going to make me come…”

His hands left her breasts at once and went to the fastening of her jeans, pulling them open and shoving his hand down the front of her knickers without preamble. Within a second, he’d found her clit and was spiraling it quickly with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“Come,” he commanded her, his breathing and voice ragged. “Come, sweetheart. Come for me.”

He applied just a touch more pressure and that was all she needed. She flew apart, calling his name, clinging to him while a tidal wave of sensation washed over her and dragged her under. 

She lay against him, panting for air and floating back down to Earth, tingles ricocheting through her limbs. Ian had his arms around her, his hands still under her shirt, stroking her bare back. He pressed soft kisses to her shoulder, then the side of her head. When he shifted a little, his still-hard cock rubbed against her and triggered an aftershock, making her shudder. 

“Was that alright?” he murmured softly, almost as if he were afraid to spook her. 

Rose sat up and looked down at him, into his blue-green eyes. They were so beautiful - _he_ was so beautiful - that she didn’t know what to say. So she simply lowered her mouth to his and kissed him softly. 

“Thank you,” she whispered against his lips. 

“You’re welcome,” he whispered back, then kissed her again. The kiss remained soft and sensual, even though she could still feel his hardness between her legs, indicating how aroused he was. She was just sliding her hand between them to cup him and start working on making him come apart when they heard the door slam. 

“Everybody decent?” Amy called from the next room. 

Rose squawked and jumped off of Ian, back beside him, right as Amy and Rory rounded the corner and entered the room. She caught just a glimpse of the enormous bulge in Ian’s trousers before he hastily covered it with a throw pillow. His hair was a wreck after her fingers had mussed it and his glasses were slightly askew. To her mind, she’d never seen anything so devastatingly sexy.

Amy was smirking knowingly, and gave Rose a once-over. She could only look down at herself and see what Amy must be seeing - her shirt was lumpy and misshapen from where her bra was still unhooked and hanging loosely from her shoulders and her denims were unbuttoned and open. Flushing with embarrassment at being caught out (and still craving his nearness after having been suddenly deprived of it), Rose pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and draped it over herself, then nestled back into his side, glaring at Amy. His arm came around her automatically.

“Seems my timing leaves something to be desired,” Amy chirped, sounding positively giddy.

“You are a menace,” Rose told her. “A gigantic pain in my arse.”

Amy didn’t look repentant in the least, although Rory looked embarrassed. 

“How’s taking it slow going?” she teased.

Rose’s cheeks heated more. “Shut up.”

Amy just giggled, then turned to Rory. “Where are my manners? Rory, this is the Doctor. Rose’s boyfriend.” Rose’s eyes nearly bugged out and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to die of mortification or murder her flatmate. “Doctor, this is _my_ boyfriend, Rory.”

Rory raised his hand in a wave. “Pleased to meet you. I’ve heard quite a bit about you on campus, of course.”

“Ah. Well, I hope it was good. Sorry I can’t get up to shake your hand, but…” He trailed off and gave a helpless little shrug.

Amy snorted. “Looks like you’ve _already_ got it up.”

“ _Amy!_ ” Rose hissed, sure now that she’d prefer murder. A slow, painful one. 

Rory was shepherding a grinning Amy out of the room. “We’ll just leave you two alone, shall we? Come on, Amy. Doctor, it was nice to finally meet the legend. Rose, Amy and I are deeply sorry.”

Amy snorted again. “I’m not the least bit sorry.”

“I’ll just bet you’re not,” Rose grumbled. 

Rory ignored them both. “We’ll just leave you alone. Have a good night.” With that, he shoved a giggling Amy into her bedroom and shut the door. 

Rose stared at the closed door for a moment, still completely tense, but for a different reason now. She felt the tension bleed out of her, however, when Ian pressed a kiss to the side of her head. She sighed, sinking into his side a little more.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not looking at him. 

“Because we were interrupted? Me, too.”

“No. I mean, yes, there’s that, but… I had no intention of seducing you. I know you said --”

Ian looped a finger under her chin and tilted her face up to his. He was smiling gently, his eyes warm. “I’m not sorry for one second of that. Not one second. The only thing I’m sorry for is that it ended so abruptly. Are _you_ sorry it happened?”

She shook her head. “No. I didn’t mean for it to, but it just felt… right.”

“I agree wholeheartedly. So that’s settled.”

“I’m still sorry, though.”

“What for, sweetheart?”

Rose flushed. “She called you my boyfriend, and it’s such a juvenile term --”

“Am I not?”

She blinked up at him, then a smile uncurled across her face. “You are?”

“Well, if I’m not, I certainly want to be. Tell me what needs to happen in order to make that the appropriate word, and I’ll get right on it.”

“Kiss me,” she requested, just because she was dying for his lips on hers, and he did so with a smile. But the interruption they’d just had kept things from getting out of hand. They kissed through their smiles, and Rose didn’t think she’d ever been so happy in her entire life. 

“Blimey,” she marveled when they broke apart. “That makes me the Doctor’s girlfriend.”

He grinned and planted a soft kiss on her lips. “I certainly fucking hope so. In the name of reciprocity, you know.”

Rose giggled and kissed him again. “Speaking of reciprocity… Would you… um… would you like to go to my room? We’ll have more privacy there.”

“I’d love to, sweetheart, but I really should be going.”

She was stunned. “But --”

Ian kissed her quickly. “Don’t take it as a rejection. It’s not that at all. I just want our first time to be magical, a night you never forget, and the moment is a bit ruined for me now.”

Rose rather thought they could get the moment _back_ , but he grinned at her. “I see those wheels turning. It’s fine, sweetheart. We have all the time in the world.”

“But you didn’t get to…” She didn’t finish, flushing. “It’s not fair that I get to and you don’t.”

His voice had just a hint of sternness to it when he spoke, but his touch was gentle. “This isn’t about fair and not fair. Nobody is keeping score here, Rose. You don’t owe me an orgasm because you had one. That’s not how this works.”

“But I want to,” she said in a small voice.

He put his forehead to hers. “And I want you to. And we _will_ , very, very soon. I know now that I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer. But not tonight, sweetheart. Can you just trust me on this?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, a little crestfallen. 

Ian kissed her lightly. “Would you like for me to stay and watch another show with you before I leave? Keeping our hands in respectable places, of course, in case Amy or Rory get thirsty and have to go to the kitchen.”

Rose snorted indelicately. “I wouldn’t put that past Amy. But you’re willing to stay and hold me for a little longer?”

“It would be my absolute honor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is a bit of a departure for me... there is a plot and conflict is eventually coming and all that, but we're going to be relationship-building for a while before we get there. I hope you guys don't mind. Honestly, I'm on tenterhooks about this story, wondering if you guys are going to put up with several chapters of fluff before we get to the meat of the story. :/ Please bear with my neurosis.


	6. Chapter 6

31 May, 2019

Ian strolled along Spring Garden Street, one of the ‘main drags’ of campus, enjoying the fresh air on his way home from work. It was a gorgeous day in late spring, and he found himself in an ebullient mood. That wasn’t particularly unusual lately, especially in the last few weeks, but he was enjoying it nonetheless.

He’d just left his office and was headed for home to take a shower and kill a couple of hours before he picked Rose up from her job to take her to dinner. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was taking her yet, and pondered it lightly as he walked. Wednesday night they’d gone for Spanish food, and Rose had very much enjoyed that. Perhaps tonight they should go for Indian. Ian was in the mood for a good curry, and he knew a restaurant Rose might like. He decided to pitch the idea to her. 

~Ian - _curry tonight? I know a great place_

Her response was near-immediate, even though she was at work. 

~Rose - _sounds great! pick me up @ 6?_  
~Ian - _be there with bells on_

Feeling even more positive than he had just a few minutes before, Ian smiled to himself and slipped his phone into his pocket. They’d have dinner tonight, and then --

From his pocket, his phone rang. He adjusted the messenger bag on his shoulder and fished it out, looking at the screen. The call was from Harry Sullivan, Dean of Sciences and Ian’s boss. It was rare that Harry would phone Ian, so he suspected something must be wrong. With a small frown, he pressed the green button.

“Hello?”

“Doctor! How are you?”

“I’m fine, Harry. And yourself?”

“Just fine, just fine. Look, I’m sorry to bother you on a Friday afternoon, but I need a favor.”

“What is it?”

“John Martin’s wife has fallen ill.”

“Oh, no,” Ian said. Martin was a friend and colleague, a lecturer of physics, and his wife, Dana, was a kind woman that Ian had met many times. “Is it serious?”

“I think so. My understanding is that her prognosis is good, but it’s going to be an intensive recovery. He’s going to be taking off the rest of the term.”

Ian thought he saw where this was going and stopped walking, propping against a tree. He closed his eyes and tried not to grit his teeth in anticipation. “How can I help?”

“He’s having to abandon three modules that someone needs to cover. I’ve got one handled, but since you only have one module this term…”

He sighed. Should have known he wouldn’t be able to get away with only a light load. “What are the classes and when?”

“Intro to particle physics is Tuesday and Thursday with a lab on Friday afternoons. Quantum physics is Monday, Wednesday, and Friday mornings.”

“I already have a module on Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings, but I’ll take intro to particles for you.”

“Good man,” Harry said, sounding chuffed. “I knew I could count on you.”

“Yes, well, you know me,” Ian said with a forced smile Harry couldn’t see. “Always ready to do what’s needed.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I’ll have Martin send his notes and materials over to you at once, and you can start on Tuesday.”

“Sounds good. Thank you, Harry,” he said, not sure why he was thanking his boss for doubling his work load for the next eight weeks.

“No, thank _you,_ ” Harry replied. 

The two men rung off and Ian hung his head a little. He hadn’t known why he was doing it when he signed up for just one module for the summer term, but figured it had worked out to his advantage when he started dating Rose. Now, though, he’d have nearly a full load, which was bothersome, but he could deal. They’d still have evenings and weekends. Besides, she was working most of the time, anyway.

Ian sighed one last time and typed for a minute on his phone, setting himself a reminder to contact his florist, Aiden, and send flowers to John and Dana Martin with his best wishes. Then he dropped his phone in his pocket and pushed himself off the tree he’d been leaning against, looking around at his surroundings.

He was in front of the McLean Center, where most art classes were held and the student gallery was located. Rose more than likely had most of her classes in that building, and some of her art was likely being displayed in the gallery, too. He pondered the building, debating with himself a little. With a little mental shrug, he started up the pavement that led to the entrance. 

Once inside, he followed the signs until he got to the student gallery. There were a few other people milling around, and Ian started to wander, his messenger bag on his shoulder. It seemed the art was grouped by student, so he didn’t waste much time, instead started searching for Rose’s name. Some of the art he saw as he looked was good, some of it was bad, but he wasn’t terribly interested in any that wasn’t his sweetheart’s.

Finally, he came to the T’s. He passed over Tanner and Thornbloom until finally, he came to Rose Tyler. There were five paintings and a sculpture on display by her, and in his (totally biased) opinion, her art was the best he’d seen so far. The sculpture was made of a coppery metal, with curving lines intersecting around a spiral, and some of the pieces were painted. It was very modern, and he thought it would be right at home in any museum. She’d also done a modern, cubist painting in muted shades of teal and orange that should have clashed, but looked very lovely together. She’d done a portrait, but it seemed to be more abstract in style and he couldn’t make out who it was meant to be. But the landscape she had displayed arrested his attention. 

She’d done a beautiful painting of a night sky, a single tree in shadow in the foreground. The sky was done in a rich, deep blue, festooned with stars, and Ian thought it was incredibly enchanting. He felt drawn to it, this gorgeous tree facing the night alone, and he had the mad impulse to buy it and display it in his office. It reminded him of the night he took her stargazing, and all the warm, happy memories wrapped up in that evening.

“Beautiful work, isn’t it?” came a voice from behind him. Ian turned to see Sarah Jane Smith, art lecturer and gallery director. He had a passing acquaintance with her, but didn’t know her well. Well enough to offer his hand. 

“Sarah Jane, good to see you.”

“And you as well, Doctor. What brings you to the gallery?”

Ian shrugged, hoping to sound convincing. “Had some spare time this afternoon, and it’s been a while since I supported the arts. Is this your student?”

Sarah Jane smiled. “She is, indeed. A very talented young lady. Rose Tyler.”

“Rose Tyler,” he repeated, just for the pleasure of saying her name. “She certainly looks to be talented, if these are anything to go by.”

“Quite so. She’s been a joy to teach. One of those students I’ll be sorry to see graduate. I’m sure you understand.”

Ian knew exactly what Sarah Jane was talking about, but he, personally, was rather looking forward to Rose’s graduation. One less thing to take up her time. He didn’t say so, of course, he just nodded agreement. “Are these works for sale?”

Sarah Jane looked taken aback. “Well, yes, technically…”

“I want to purchase that one,” he told her, pointing to the night sky painting. “I’m sure you can see why I’d be interested. It’ll look lovely in my office, and I’ll have purchased the work of a talented artist before she becomes famous. How much?”

Blinking, she said, “A hundred pounds.”

“Done,” Ian replied at once. He’d have paid much more.

Sarah Jane still looked shocked. “Well I’ll… I’ll have to let Miss Tyler know… Of course, everyone signs a waiver when they place their art, saying it can be sold…” She seemed to correct herself and smiled. “Will you be taking it today, or…?”

“I think I can carry it home from here,” Ian said. “It’s a lovely day and my flat isn’t far. Would you prefer cash, or can you take a card?”

Twenty minutes later, Ian left the gallery and a bemused-looking Sarah Jane with his new purchase under his arm, headed home, whistling a little tune.

@}-->\--------

The food was delicious, but Rose was preoccupied as they ate. She was nervous, more nervous than she’d ever been with Ian, and struggling to find a way to say what was on her mind. She wasn’t even sure where to begin, really, and was trying to pluck up the courage to just skip right to the point and ask for what she wanted. 

Despite Rose’s fervent wishing, they hadn’t repeated the events from earlier in the week at her flat, when he’d brought her off. They’d been on another date, Wednesday night, but everywhere they’d been was public. They made out like teenagers in his Range Rover when he’d brought her home, but had been interrupted by her phone, and then by a couple having a row on the pavement in front of the car. After the second interruption, he’d withdrawn his hands from her body and apologized, as if he’d been behaving inappropriately. They’d talked for a bit while they both calmed down, then he’d walked her to her door, kissed her goodnight, and left to go home. Rose herself had gone inside and immediately broken out her trusty vibrator to relieve the tension. After, she’d lain in bed and wondered why she hadn’t asked him inside. She was ready for sex. More than ready. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to feel this way about Ian Docherty for a long, long time. Possibly forever. Did he not feel it, too?

That was the thought that kept torturing her. She was certain about her feelings, even though it had only been a little over three weeks since their first date to the tea shoppe. It was soon, yes, but she _knew_. She was fairly certain he was feeling the same way, but... 

“Are you alright?” Ian asked, brows knitted in concern. 

Rose gave a false smile. “I’m fine!”

“You just seem… distracted. Is something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just…”

He reached across the table when she hesitated, taking her hand. “What, sweetheart?”

“I’m mad about you,” she blurted. 

Ian’s lip quirked a little. “I’m mad about you, too.”

Rose took a deep breath. “And I think we should spend the night together.”

His eyes widened just a little at her pronouncement. “You do?”

“I - I do. Not for sex, although that would be brilliant. More than brilliant, really. I’m sure it would be --”

He stopped her babbling. “ _Not_ for sex?”

“No. Well, yes, that too, but… I just… I want…”

Ian squeezed her hand. “It’s alright, sweetheart. You can tell me anything. What is it you want?”

“I want you to hold me,” she admitted, blushing wildly and not looking at him. “I want to curl up in your arms and sleep. I want to wake up with you. I want to feel you beside me all night and discover if you snore.” He chuckled at that and she gave him a furtive smile before she shyly averted her eyes again. “I just… I never feel as good as I do when you’re near me, Ian, and I’ve been daydreaming about waking up in your arms for months. I want it to be reality.”

Ian was quiet for a moment, and Rose’s heart was in her throat. What if she’d pushed too hard, too soon?

He was quiet a moment, as if contemplating what she’d said, and then, “Sweetheart, I have to be honest. I’m concerned that once I get you in my bed, I’m never going to want you to leave. I’ll just keep you there, with me, forever.”

Rose broke into a smile. “I wouldn’t object to that, personally.”

“And you’re sure that’s what you want? That’s what you’re ready for?”

She nodded. “I’m ready.”

Something flashed in his eyes and it made her shiver in anticipation. “Alright, sweetheart. We can go to my flat after dinner, if that’s what you want.”

“That’s what I want,” she said with a smile, her voice steady even though she felt like her blood was simmering. 

“Better eat up, then,” he said, one corner of his lip quirked. “We have somewhere to be.”

@}-->\--------

“I bought my flat about ten years ago,” Ian was saying as he led Rose up the stairs to the front door. 

“It’s a house,” she said, looking up at the building, thinking it looked nicer than she’d expected. It was two stories with a brick exterior and looked old. 

“It is,” he agreed, looking a bit sheepish. “Old habits die hard, so I call it a flat.”

“What made you choose this house?”

“I just… liked it. It had character, you know? Fergus gave me shit for buying so close to campus, right in the middle of student housing, but I couldn’t see the point in buying a place in a so-called ‘quieter’ neighborhood when this one had everything I wanted.”

“Is it a noisy neighborhood?” she asked, looking around while he fiddled with his keys.

“Nah. There are usually a couple of parties somewhere on the block at the beginning and end of term. Occasionally at midterms. Just kids blowing off steam - they don’t get too rowdy. Other than that, it’s just like any other neighborhood.”

He got his key in the lock and turned the handle, stepping in and flipping a light just inside. Rose followed him, looking around the small foyer while he shut the blue door. He dropped his keys on the small side table and turned to Rose. “I know we just ate, but would you like a drink? I’ve got water, fizzy drink, and I think there’s a bottle of wine in there, although it’s probably vinegar by now. Lager?”

“I’m fine,” Rose said with a smile. 

“Can I show you around?”

She nodded, biting her lip a little, and he reached for her hand. She gave it gladly and he threaded their fingers. As they passed the kitchen and the dining room, he flipped the light in each room to show it to her. The kitchen was galley style and neat, with a small table under the far window. It wasn’t exactly decorated, but she would have been surprised if it had been. The dining room he showed her was clearly being used as an office. The table was littered with books and papers, and there was a laptop sitting at one spot. 

“The second bedroom is meant to be my office,” he explained, “but it’s more convenient to work down here. I never entertain, so…”

He trailed off, and Rose couldn’t help but smile. If he never entertained, that meant he never - or rarely - brought women home. The thought made her terribly happy. 

Ian led her past the dining room and into a darkened room. “This is my lounge,” he said, flipping a switch and powering on the lamps on the side tables on either end of the long, leather couch. It was a fairly large room, but still cozy, and not much different from other university housing she’d seen, although there were a handful of differences. There were books littering every surface instead of empty beer bottles, and the furniture was a little nicer, a little more high end. Over by the window stood a black guitar on a stand, plugged into a small amplifier. But despite the clutter, it was neat - organized chaos. Not the mess she would have expected from a bachelor residence. Somehow, it was perfect for Ian. 

“The downstairs loo is right over there,” he said, pointing to a door on the other side of the room. “Everything else is upstairs.”

“What else is there?”

“Three bedrooms and two more bathrooms.”

“Ah.” She looked around the room again, now that her eyes had adjusted to the light, and did a double take when her eyes landed on a very familiar piece of art propped beside the entertainment center. She let go of his hand and went to investigate, kneeling down and picking it up.

“I, um, I can explain…” he started. 

Rose didn’t look up at him yet, instead looking down at her work. She vividly remembered creating it, sketching and then painting it on autopilot while her recordings of the Doctor’s lectures played in the background and his voice washed over her. She’d dwelled on her dreamboat professor and daydreamed about seeing the stars with him - a daydream he’d later made come true. She’d been inspired by his love of the stars and pleased with the results, thinking it a fitting tribute to her unrequited crush. When she’d had to select five works to display at the end of term, it had been an easy choice. She’d never expected to sell it, and had sort of hoped she wouldn’t. When Sarah Jane had called, she’d been shocked and a little sad, thinking that this work she’d done with Ian in mind was gone forever. But here it was, in her hands, while the inspiration for it stood nearby, looking anxious. 

“You bought it?” she asked, looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Ah, yes. You see, I was passing the student gallery and realized I’d never seen any of your work. So I went inside and this painting caught my eye…”

“I painted it for you,” she interrupted, looking back down at the painting to hide her flush. “I used to put on recordings of your lectures while I worked and just ...listen to you talk. You were very much on my mind when I painted this. I guess it’s fitting you own it.”

“Did you really, sweetheart?” he asked, sounding terribly hopeful and a little vulnerable. 

She didn’t answer with words, instead hastily put the painting down and stepped over to him, putting her arms around his neck and pulling him down into a passionate kiss. He responded at once, his arms going around her to hold her tight, and Rose pressed her body against his. She could feel him hardening against her belly, and it sent a flare of arousal to her core. Her tongue tangled with his and she clutched him to her, kissing him until she ran out of oxygen and she had to pull away. She bit her lip, panting for breath, and smiled at him. 

“I think you underestimate just how much of a crush I had on my lecturer last term, Ian.”

“It’s still just so hard to believe,” he admitted, then laid his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes and sighed happily. “So I take it you’re not cross?” he asked, his voice teasing slightly. 

Rose smiled and trailed her fingers along his cheek. “You’re brilliant, you know that?”

“No, sweetheart. You’re the brilliant one, and come Monday I’ll have the evidence of that hanging in my office. But what I am is yours... If you’ll have me.”

Rose kissed him lightly. “I’ll absolutely have you,” she told him, then flushed when his eyes darkened from her double meaning. 

They stood there a little longer, wrapped in each other’s arms, until he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Do you want to watch telly with me?”

She nodded and Ian stepped back, taking her hand and leading her to the couch. He took a seat, and she snuggled up next to him. He pulled up Netflix and they selected a film, settling into each other and relaxing. Rose was completely at peace in his arms, enjoying the way his fingertips brushed her arm absently and the way he randomly pressed kisses to the top of her hair. She’d never felt as happy as she did next to him, and congratulated herself on working up the courage to ask to stay with him. She hadn’t exactly planned on asking tonight, and didn’t have a toothbrush or a change of clothes, but those were logistics and could be worried about later. It was time, she thought; her heart was his, and she was blissfully happy and in love. She wasn’t quite ready to tell him so yet, but there was time. Ian Docherty was _it_ for her, the love of her life, and she was as certain about that as she was about her name. She didn’t know what that meant for them, long term, but that was alright, too. She didn’t need to know the future. As long as it included Ian, she’d be happy. 

Before she knew it, he was gently shaking her awake. “Sweetheart?”

Rose yawned and sat up sleepily, rubbing her eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep. What time is it?”

“Half eleven. We should go to bed - if that’s still what you want.”

She smiled. “It is. But… um… I don’t have anything to sleep in.”

His eyes darkened for a moment and she was sure they were both imagining sleeping naked together. She tried not to flush. 

“I have plenty of shirts. You’re welcome to them.”

“Thank you.”

He leaned forward and kissed her softly, then stood. “Come on, sweetheart. It’s late and you’re sleepy. Let’s go to bed.”

Rose didn’t have to be told twice. She got to her feet, her hand in his and her heart fluttering. 

“Lead the way, handsome.”


	7. Chapter 7

1 June, 2019

Ian woke slowly, wondering for just a moment why his alarm wasn’t going off, before he remembered it was Saturday. He rolled over onto his side, sighing in relaxation, eyes still closed. But his whole body tensed and his eyes flew open when there was an answering sigh from beside him. 

Rose lay opposite him, her blonde hair in complete disarray around her face and all over the pillow. She was still sleeping, her face completely relaxed, and he was somewhat discomfited to find that she looked even younger when she was asleep. Her hand was curled next to her face, and he resisted the urge to grab it and twine their fingers. She was angelic in her slumber, absolutely stunning, and he couldn’t remember ever seeing anything as lovely in his life. 

She’d accepted the offer of one of his shirts to sleep in, and had selected a plain white oxford. It had looked mind-numbingly sexy on her when she’d emerged from his en suite after changing clothes and making use of his spare toothbrush. He’d had to cover his erection with the pajama pants he’d been intending to change into, and had seriously considered wanking while he was in the loo to change. He’d mastered himself, though, and managed to gain control over his eager cock. When he’d gone back into his bedroom, he’d found her standing shyly beside the bed, waiting to follow his lead. He’d gone to his side of the bed and pulled down the covers, prompting her to do the same on her side. They’d climbed in and met in the middle, then he’d wrapped her in his arms, intensely grateful that she’d had the nerve to ask for this. He’d wanted to make love to her, but hadn’t wanted to do anything to ruin such a gorgeous moment. A short time later, when she started snoring gently (melting his heart), he was glad he hadn’t made a move on her.

They’d apparently drifted apart in the night, and her shirt had come a little unbuttoned as it twisted around her. One of her breasts was exposed, just lying there, open to his hungry gaze. His cock hardened further and he found himself in the middle of a heated argument between his body and willpower. His body was begging his willpower to lean over and take that mouth watering nipple into his mouth, but he knew he couldn’t. He’d never take advantage of her like that - at least, not until they’d been together a good while and he knew for absolute certain that such an advance would be welcome. But this was only their first night together, and he had no idea how she’d react to something like that. He couldn’t take the risk. 

Mustering his most gentlemanly behavior, he gently pulled the blanket over her shoulder, covering her, then rolled out of bed carefully to go relieve his bladder. When he’d done so, and brushed his teeth for good measure, he went back into his bedroom to his sweetheart.

She’d rolled over to her opposite side, away from him, and he smiled. She’d wanted to wake up in his arms, after all. Why not give her what she wanted? Especially when he wanted it, too. So, so badly. 

He slid into bed behind her, slipping one arm under her head to support her neck and draping his right arm around her. She sighed and wriggled her body, pressing herself against him. Her bum was nestled against his groin and he did his best to will away the erection he’d had since he rolled over and saw her in bed beside him. Her shirt was pulled to the side, leaving her shoulder exposed, tempting him, but he didn’t want to disturb her sleep. He was content in that moment, anyway, with his love snuggled in his arms, her body warm and close to his. The smell of her shampoo was intoxicating and he took a deep sniff. The fingers of his right hand lightly traced the soft skin of her exposed belly, relishing the softness and contact. His cock was pulsing, but he ignored it. 

Rose made a sleepy little sound and adjusted herself, grinding her bum against his cock. He bit his lip to try and control himself, then Rose’s hand covered his. She laced her fingers with his, her palm covering the back of his hand, and he stopped his caressing of her, curling his fingers around hers. She sighed again and he smiled. Assuming she was at least partly awake, he gave into temptation and his lips came down to her shoulder, laying a light kiss there.

She squirmed again, once again rubbing her bum against his diamond-hard cock, and he bit back a groan. He squeezed the hand he held and fought the urge to grind against her in return. 

Very slowly and deliberately, Rose pressed her bum against him again in what was unmistakably a tease. He lay an open-mouth kiss to her shoulder and, independent of his will, rolled his hips so his cock nudged her bum. He’d fallen out of the front of his pajama trousers and could feel the satiny slide of her knickers against the head of his cock. The sensation was enough to make him groan lightly, and he rubbed against her again. His willpower was eroding, but it seemed she was welcoming his advances. At least that’s what he gathered when she rolled her hips backwards, increasing the friction. He closed his mouth on the side of her neck, nibbling gently. 

Her hand holding his drifted upward, under her shirt, until it came to her breast. Ian didn’t mistake the invitation nor did he hesitate to cover her, squeezing the soft flesh. She sighed when he did, leaning her head back, and Ian trailed his lips down her neck, darting his tongue out to taste her. His hips and hers had taken up a steady rhythm, perfectly in sync with each other, and if this was a prologue to how their lovemaking was going to be, he knew he was in for the most mind-blowing experience of his life. 

Rose’s hand left his, and he started tweaking and pulling her nipple, earning little sounds from her. He was dying to replace his fingers with his mouth, to kiss and taste her all over, but was unwilling to stop what they were doing at the moment. It felt too good, so fucking amazing, and he didn’t think he could stop if he tried. 

Her hips stopped rolling suddenly and he ceased all his motions, confused and worried he’d somehow pushed her too far. But almost immediately, he felt Rose’s hand come behind herself and she pulled her knickers down and away from her bum. Ian groaned and squeezed her breast, recognizing the invitation he was being given. She went back to grinding against him, now with no cloth between them, her motions deliberate, and he felt his cock slide down the velvety crease of her bum. She wriggled until the head of his cock was between her thighs, pressed against her entrance. He had never wanted anything more than he wanted to slide into her, and he ground his teeth, trying to control himself. 

“Please,” she breathed, and he gave over. Very slowly, he pressed forward, feeling himself slip into her scorching heat. He let go of her breast to put his hand on her hip to hold her steady while he gently, slowly slid deeper into her. She felt so good, so insanely fucking _fantastic_ , and he was afraid he’d lose his mind from bliss. She made encouraging little mewling sounds and he finally went as deep as he could, then held still to relish the moment. That was apparently disagreeable to Rose, because she started moving her hips, forcing him in and out a little. Taking a hint, he withdrew until only the head remained inside her, then plunged back in. Rose moaned, and he wondered if she’d be able to get off this way. He sure as hell would - and soon - if this kept up. There was one way to make _sure_ she got off, he figured, so he slid his hand off her hip around to seek out her clit, finding her hand there already stroking. He’d thought he was wild about her before, but finding her touching herself spiked his arousal impossibly higher. He lay his fingers over hers, following her lead, and used the opportunity to learn what she liked. 

His thrusts were speeding up, becoming harder, and he sucked at the skin of her shoulder. She made whimpering sounds, and Ian took pride in each one. He only wished he could taste her fully. 

It occurred to him like a lightning strike what he was doing. It was his first time with this woman - this woman he was sure was the love of his life - and he was taking her from behind with their clothes on like teenagers rutting under their parents noses. Rose deserved better. Much better. 

He stopped fucking her at once, pulling his hand, body, and mouth back from her. She whined when he slipped out of her, a low, plaintive sound. He didn’t wait a moment before he rolled her over onto her back, attacking her mouth, kissing her deeply. Her arms went around him and one hand threaded through his hair, making him moan into her mouth. When he needed to breathe, he broke the kiss, but kept planting kisses along her jaw and down her neck while one hand unbuttoned her shirt. 

“I want to make love to you.”

“We _were_ making love,” she complained, and he grinned against her collarbone. He finally released the last button of her shirt and bared her to his gaze. She was gorgeous, fucking ethereal, and he did his best to memorize how she looked, filing the memory away safely. When he couldn’t stand it anymore, he bent and took one puckered nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily while his hand went to push her knickers the rest of the way down. She scratched at his scalp while her legs helped get rid of the knickers, and when they were gone, he covered her mound with his hand. She gasped when his fingers breached her lips and sought out her clit, but he didn’t slow down. If he had his way, she’d come over and over again before he put his cock back inside her. He was determined to worship her properly. 

He felt hands scrabbling at his sides and back and realized she was trying to get his t-shirt off of him. He released her breast and sat up a little, pulling the shirt over his head and tossing it away carelessly before going back to her breast and sending his fingers back into her wet heat, spiraling her clit again. 

“Sweetheart,” he murmured as he slid his mouth across her chest towards her other breast. 

“Yeah?”

“If this is not what you want --”

“Shut up,” she groaned. “I want you so badly, I may die if you don’t fuck me soon.”

“I’m going to,” he promised, guiding his fingers down to her entrance and circling before he eased two inside her wet channel. “I’m going to, Rose. We’re going to make love. Soon.”

She arched her back when he scraped his teeth on her nipple. “What are you - oooh - what are you waiting for?”

“I want to taste you first. Make you fall apart at least once.”

“I feel like I’m falling apart now,” she whined. 

Ian released her nipple, then started trailing his mouth across her flat abdomen, licking occasionally. 

“Good,” he murmured, then ringed her belly button with his tongue. She whined again, and he curled his fingers to lightly stroke the hidden spot inside her. He pressed open-mouth kisses lower, adjusting his body, until finally he was lying between her spread legs, watching his fingers plunge in and out. She was beautiful, spread open before him and glistening wet. His mouth fairly salivated to taste her and she was writhing, pulling her own nipples, her lip between her teeth as she watched him with blazing eyes. He didn’t think he could wait another second, so he covered her with his mouth, his tongue seeking out her clit right away. 

Rose’s body arched off the bed and she let out a strangled cry, as if she’d stepped on a live wire. Ian rather liked that, almost as much as he loved the taste of her juices exploding across his tongue. He sharpened his tongue into a point and twirled it around her clit, flicking it occasionally, and she cried out for him, grabbing his hair and fisting her hand in it. He fucked her faster with his fingers while his tongue flew over her clit.

Her whole body writhed beneath his touch, and he wound his free arm around her leg to anchor her, holding her still for him. She kept calling out to him, pleading brokenly, and he fucking loved it. The more she begged, the faster he worked fingers and tongue. She got louder and less coherent until finally she was just a stream of monosyllabic words like ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘yes’, and ‘fuck’ shouted at the top of her lungs. 

Her legs clamped around his head and he could feel the tension building in her, the quivering in her thighs. He opened his eyes to look at her for just a moment, taking in the way her head was thrown back, eyes squeezed closed and mouth wide open. Her breasts heaved and her body rolled before him. Pleased, he closed his eyes and concentrated on making her fall apart. 

“I’m close,” she panted. “Oh God, Ian, I’m close, I’m so close, don’t stop…”

As he put on a renewed burst of speed, determined to push her over, she went very still beneath him, all the muscles in her body tense and trembling, then she exploded. Her whole body bucked, and he did his best to hang on and keep his mouth attached to her clit to prolong her orgasm. She screamed, her hands pulling his hair painfully, but he didn’t care. Moisture flooded his fingers, but he didn’t stop fucking her with them. Finally, she started pushing him away, recoiling from the movement of his tongue. He withdrew his fingers then and put his tongue inside her instead, making her cry out again with another orgasm. Greedily, he lapped at her juices, tasting her as fully as he could. 

Slowly, she settled down, and he eased up the efforts of his tongue until she lay spent in front of him, panting for breath. He smirked to himself, placing soft kisses to her mound while she gathered herself. 

When he started kissing her inner thighs, she raised her head to look at him for a moment. He gave her a grin, and she dropped her head back onto the pillow behind her.

“Holy shit.”

Ian chuckled. “That good?”

“You’re amazing,” she praised him. 

“Thank you. But I think you’re the amazing one.”

He started kissing his way back up her body, doing his best to master the impulse to slam himself into her and fuck her until she squealed. Rose was precious, the most incredible woman he’d ever known. She deserved to be petted and cherished. 

Rose gasped when he captured her nipple again, then purred, curling her body up towards him. Her hands went back to his hair, the gentle scratch of her fingernails making him crazy. 

“I want you,” she told him in a low voice. “Please, Ian. I want you.”

He wasn’t a fool. Pressing one last kiss to her breast, he raised up onto his knees to shove his pajama trousers down. Rose sat up as soon as his cock was free, wrapping her hand around it and stroking it firmly but gently, making Ian’s eyes roll back in his head. 

“ _Christ,_ sweetheart…” 

He rolled his head back onto his shoulders for just a second before he raised it up again and looked down at her. She was staring at his cock with hooded eyes.

“S’gorgeous,” she breathed, pumping him languidly, watching her hand as it worked him. “And so big…”

“Yeah?” he choked out. 

Rose turned her face up to his. “Yeah. Kiss me.”

Ian did as the lady asked, pushing her backwards until he was hovering over her, never breaking the kiss, his tongue and hers jostling each other as they sought to be in each other’s mouths. His cock nudged her mound and her hands came up to knead and scratch at his back, encouraging him. Their kiss became more heated and desperate every time he ground against her, until he was forced to break the kiss. 

“Please, Ian,” she begged him, breathing heavily and looking up into his eyes. “Please, make love to me.”

He pressed one more chaste kiss to her lips. “Whatever you want, sweetheart. Anything.”

He lined himself up with her entrance, watching her face intently as he pushed inside, then pulled nearly all the way out. She gave a minute nod and he pushed back in, farther this time. Her eyes were wide, locked on his, and Ian decided that that moment, fucking her gently while he gazed into her eyes, was the most erotic moment of his life. He marveled at the perfect fit, as if she’d been hand crafted by some deity to perfectly complement him. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, moaning as he slid in and out again and again. He lowered his head to her neck and went to work licking and sucking, speeding up the motions of his hips. 

“Yeah,” she breathed, wrapping one leg around him, opening herself more. “Please, Ian. More.”

He fucked her a little harder and faster, his breathing becoming more ragged. He could feel her fingertips gripping his back, her nails digging into the skin, and it drove him higher. 

“Rose,” he moaned. “You feel so good, so _fucking_ good… so wet and tight…”

“Fuck me, yes, _God!_ Please, don’t stop.”

He had no intention of stopping, but the coil of tension low in his back made it clear this couldn’t go on forever. He was going to come, and soon. Part of him wanted to slow down and cherish this moment, but he didn’t seem capable. His body was running the show now, and all he could do was hope he’d be able to take her over with him when he came.

Hoping to get a better angle for her, he raised her leg and encouraged her to wrap it around him. His idea seemed to work, because she threw her head back and shouted, “Oh, God! Right there! Yes! _Fuck_!”

He fucked her as hard and fast as he could, giving her exactly what she wanted, his hips pistoning in and out while she clawed at his back and begged for more. He tried to think of something else other than how amazing her slick heat felt, hoping to prolong the moment, but he could feel the orgasm building, barreling towards him. He needed to come soon or he worried he might die. 

“Please, Rose. Please, I need you to come for me. _Jesus!_ Come on my cock. _Please_ ,” he begged, his breath coming in harsh gasps. 

“I’m close! I’m close! Oh, God, you’re going to make me come again! Don’t stop! Just please don’t stop!”

It was too late to do anything but fuck her wildly and hope for the best. Her nails dug into his back, heightning everything, and he groaned.

Rose stiffened below him for just a moment before she screamed his name, thrashing like a wild thing, her channel clenching around him. One more stroke, two, then three, and he was lost. His vision whited out and he moaned brokenly into her neck, coming into her like a bleeding freight train. 

The pulsing of his cock subsided slowly as he regained his senses, leaving him weak, sweat-slicked, and trembling above her. He opened his eyes to look down at her, taking her in. She was adorably tousled, her hair wild and her eyes hazy. Her kiss-swollen lips were parted as she panted for air, and their breaths mixed in the small distance between them. It felt as if they were sharing the air from their lungs, and the experience was incredibly intimate. 

Needing to kiss her, he lowered his body the few inches it took until his lips could meet hers. The small motion made both of them gasp, and an aftershock shook him. Judging from Rose’s shudder, his movement had had the same effect on her. He kissed her softly, sweetly, letting his lips profess the love his voice couldn’t yet. Her hands slid over his back, running over the areas she’d just scratched and causing a little twinge of pain. It felt absolutely exhilarating, and he knew that every time something touched his back for the next few days, he’d be remembering this moment. 

When he felt himself start to soften, he withdrew his cock, making both of them moan. Then he fell to her side, pulling her into his arms with a sigh. She nuzzled against his chest and he kissed her hair, completely content. They lay there for a while, legs tangled and arms wrapped around each other, until Rose spoke. 

“Well, that was… great.”

Ian chuckled and leaned his head back so he could see her. “Is that the best word you can come up with?” he teased. 

She grinned at him. “Amazing. Outstanding. Mind-blowing. Staggering. Earth-shattering. Shall I go on?”

He kissed her cheeky mouth. “I think I take your point. And I agree. This is the best morning I’ve ever had.”

Rose giggled. “Me, too. But you know the best part?”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“This. Right now. You holding me close in your arms. This is my favorite part.”

He dipped his head and kissed her sweetly. “This is my favorite part, too. I knew it would be. Although,” he said with a lopsided grin, “I don’t want to discount the part that came before. That was pretty fucking… _great_.”

Rose giggled again and he kissed her smile. He tucked her head under his chin and slid his fingers up and down along the smooth skin of her back, cherishing the moment. It was so perfect, so wonderful. And so hard to believe. 

“Ian?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sorry?”

He leaned back again to give her a confused look. “Why the hell would I be sorry?”

“Maybe that’s not the right word. Are you concerned we did it too soon?”

He considered his answer for a moment, wanting to get this exactly right. Finally, he tamped down his nerves and said, “It’s sooner than I had planned on, yes. But I told you I wanted to feel a deep connection first, and I did. I _do_. Truth be told, I’ve felt it since our first date, when we went to the tea shoppe and walked all over London. I just wanted to give you time --”

She put a finger over his lips. “I feel it, too,” she interjected. He kissed the tip of her finger and she lowered it. “Nothing has ever felt like this for me before. Ever.”

He opened his mouth to tell her he loved her, but bit the words back. Not yet. Soon, but not yet. Instead, he kissed her again. “Good,” he murmured against her lips. “It’s never felt like this for me before, either.”

Rose smiled and he kissed her again, then lay his head on the pillow and just gazed at her, marveling at his good fortune. 

“So what now?” she asked. 

“Now, we lie here for a while longer until we decide to go in search of food. We’ll probably have to leave the house, since I don’t keep a lot on the shelves, but that’s alright. There’s a little diner a couple blocks away that serves a lovely breakfast.”

“That sounds good.”

“After that,” he said with twinkling eyes, “I intend to monopolize your time until you have to go to work at three, then miss you like crazy when you’re gone.”

She grinned. “I’ll miss you, too. But we have a few hours before we have to worry about that.”

He smirked and rolled her under him. “Let’s make the most of those few hours, then.”


End file.
